"It's a girl thing." "It's a guy thing." "Is one gender really better then another on a biological scale or is it solely a socially influenced idea?" Are the biases about being a certain gender still a dominant/deciding factor of society or are they slowly being buried on a global scale? State your views and possibly include a factual example if it is not a commonplace reference. Some examples of gender stereotypes if you are confused: "She's only acting that way because it's 'that time of month'." "Guys aren't supposed to cry, thats what girls do." "Guys are idiots because they only think with their pants*." "It's because you're a guy you don't understand! Guys don't listen!" "It's ok because you're a guy/girl." (Yes I know this was a little rhetorical, but it has to be done for general debate purposes. I should also mention that it was harder to think up of some NEGATIVE gender stereotypical lines for the guys side than the girls. No idea why, but I thought I'd throw that in.)
EDIT!: In order to save thread space, there will only be one thread for this story! Currently it has been updated to the 2nd one! If you wish to read that, scroll through the pages for the NEXT giant blob of text (you may also want to watch or check this thread every couple of days for updates). Thanks! Drabble-esque, crack-humor. Includes everyone's favorite dysfunctional family, OrganizationXIII. I just typed it directly onto this thread and posted. It's not even in proper story format.... "HAPPY NON-BIRTHDAY XEMNAS!" Xemnas: What's in those boxes better be hearts or very good excuses as to why you all aren't collecting hearts, better yet why I shouldn't simply outright destroy you for this pointless event. Saix: That is exactly what I said Superior. Xemnas: Then what is that gaudy thing in your hands? Saix: Your Non-Birthday Gif- ahem, I mean an offerring as a sign of my eternal fealty to you. Xemnas: A telescope, I'm touched in the deepest voids of my soul. Saix: Truly, Superior? Xemnas: .... Xigbar: OK JULIET, MOVE OVER. -Anyway bossman, here's your freaking present. Xemnas: ....What in the Darkness is this? Xigbar: It's a con-. Xemnas: Consider it destroyed. Vexen: Superior, I hope you find my gift satisfactory. Xemnas: Gift? All I see is a rather effeminate...boy..? Vexen: It's a replica, its name is Repliku. Isn't it marvelous? Xemnas: Marvelous like the black plague. Vexen: I knew you would like it. Xaldin: Here you are Xemnas. Xemnas: It's a box of culinary knives. Xaldin: Stainless steel culinary knives with a life-time warranty... Demyx: Oh oh! Let me give you my gift! Xemnas: What purpose does this gigantic cone...thing serve? Demyx: Oh you don't like the conch? Well....uhm...its the thought that counts...? Xemnas: Clearly, the thought of this rivals the practicality of it. Luxord: Xemnas my good Superior! This is my humble gift to you! Xemnas: It's a bag of munny. Luxord: A universal gift can be the best one! Xemnas: Pity I'm not a part of that universe then. Marluxia: Don't break it. Xemnas: A vase with my name on it, how personal. Marluxia: ...It's an urn. Xemnas: Ah, an urn. -Where are the customary flowers I'm supposed to put into it? Marluxia: ...Right...flowers..... Xemnas: Larxene, do I even what to know what this thing is? Larxene: In some worlds they call them voodoo dolls. Xemnas: And your reasoning for giving this me? Larxene: It reminded me of how it too wishes for a brain. Xemnas: How incredibly witty of you to think so. Larxene: I'm glad we agree. Axel: Oh Xeeeeeeeeeeeemmy! Here's my present! Xemnas: Hmm, a coffee machine that looks remarkably like the coffe machine that was missing from the break room earlier this morning. Axel: Nah you're just crazy, this one is completely different from that one! Xemnas: Indeed you are right Axel, this one is still broken like the missing coffee machine that you were supposed to fix. Axel: Eheheheheheh- Roxas! HowaboutyougiveMr.Xemnasyourpresent? Roxas: *meeps* Xemnas: Why am I not surprised that you have all of the missing creamers, sugar packets and filters from the break room? Axel: Heh heh....It must be your lucky day Xemmy! Zexion: I think you should refresh your memory on the definition on the word of 'luck' Axel. -If you dare say 'that' phrase and I will do something rather drastic that entails forcing Lexicon down your throat. But I digress, here is your present Xemnas. Xemnas: A can of pepper spray? Zexion: Yes, and I will be more then happy to demonstrate its effectiveness on-. Xemnas: I appreciate the sentiment.... That leaves only you Lexaeus. Come now, put an end to this ordeal, I lack the capacity to really care anymore. Lexaeus: ........... (Please accept this.) Xemnas: ........You are all granted a temporary reprieve. You are all dismissed to resume your normal duties except for Lexaeus. *The others go on their marry way* Lexaeus: ......................... (Yes, what is it?) Xemnas: You gave me a pot of hair gel. Lexaeus: ............................................. (I take it you wanted something else-?) Xemnas: I would have preferred orange-scented hair gel. Lexaeus: ........... (....What?) Xemnas: I rather like oranges... END continue? discontinue?
Concept: Some of the many (theoretical) memories of Xemnas when he was apprenticed to a certain someone. Genre: General Rating: T+/PG-13 Yes I know the title sounds bizarre, but it's meant to be asked by a person hence the reason why it is not grammatically correct (who it is, you have to figure out on your own). This is actually an old sample from my work-in-progress fic. I will do my best to post up new mini-chapters every couple of days if there is enough interest in them. (Check back often for updates on new chapters if you want to follow this story.) Prologue So short. I promise the other mini-chapters will be longer. Side-Note: Who 'no name' is should be fairly obvious (not that it is terribly important in the context of this version of the story).
VERSION 1.2 (5.23.07) FOREWORD: It's true that one of the best ways to improve is to practice. But even countless hours of practice can fall short if the mastery of the fundamental basics of that skill are brittle. The purpose of this is not to tell you HOW to make or write your story, but WHAT are the things that make a story. This is a reference for those who may feel that they are unsure of what are the components of a story or those who wish to become writers. (This version uses KH and general FF for some of the examples) INDEX OF CONTENTS (base0): (Use ctrl + f to find the reference ID) INDEX OF CONTENTS - (base0) GENERAL FAQ - (genfaq1) GENERAL TERMS - (genterm1) IDEA - (ide1) THEME - (the1) TONE/STYLE - (tos1) SETTING - (set1) CHARACTERS - (chrc1) CHRACTERIZATION -(chrz1) INTERACTION - (inter1) RESEARCH/REFERENCE - (rere1) EXECUTION - (exec1) EGO - (ego1) ENDWORD - (end1) THANKS - (thanks1) CREDIT - (credit1) ADDITIONS FROM EXPERIENCED WRITERS: 1st Up - Jade Rhade, Author of "Crushed Rose" How to integrate multiple languages - (5-28-07, 01:30 PM) Mechanics: Semi-colons and Commas - (5-28-07, 01:30 PM) 2nd Up - JustANobody, Author of "The Coldest Heart" Suggested method of the creation of a story - (5-20-07, 11:41 AM) 3rd Up - The Soul-Eater, Author of "New Beginnings" In-Depth Look at Characterizations - (06-28-2007, 03:53 PM) Interview with Saeru, Author of "Braig's Gift" Some Free-Talk - (Interview with Saeru) GENERAL FAQ (genfaq1) Q: Why is this here? A: To help those in the Creativity Corner. Q: Why isn't this just in the Writer's Workshop? A: The Writer's Workshop is a thread of active feedback, this is not. Q: Well then what is this? A: A source of general reference of what makes a story. Q: So if I read this, I'll become a better writer? A: Ideally, yes. Actuality, probably not so much. This is mainly to provide insight on the components of a story. Q: What exactly do you mean by components? A: Components are what make up something to create a greater picture. The components found here were specifically for long-term stories but some of them can still be applied to stories in general. Short-stories/One-shots and works of satire/parody can function without some of these components and still be excellent reads. Q: Can you beta (spell/grammar-check) my story? A: (For the sake of this thread) No. Any requests made on this thread will be ignored. If you want active feedback go to the Writer's Workshop. Q: What do the '(Opinion!)' things mean in front of a sentence? A: This means that the following line(s) until the end of the paragraph is/are my personal opinion. Q: What does the Version # at the top mean? A: Exactly what it sounds like. Currently I only have my own examples and such listed. On another note, this is meant to be a very much alive and evolving source of reference! Originally I was going to try and recruit more experienced authors from the forum, but I chickened out. Q: Why is ______ missing? A: This reference is a far cry from being perfect. PM me with anything you may feel is missing along with the reason of WHY it should be added. You will be credited with pointing out what was missing (as well as the "definition" should you provide a suitable one). Q: Can I contribute? A: Certainly! PM me if you wish to add on to it (where it goes, what your contribution is, etc.). If it is indeed helpful, it will be added and you will be appropriately credited. GENERAL TERMS (genterm1): A list of terms that are common to stories but are not included in the actual components list. The reason why should be apparent after taking a quick look at the list. Prologue - Typically a chapter that which gives additional information to the story before the story even begins. The prologue can be told in a completely different way then the actual story; it is up to the author. Plot - The general direction of the story. Has a very broad variety in terms of quality and quantity. Protagonist - The main character that is usually designed to gain the favor of the reader. Not always moralistically good. The story usually revolves around this character. Antagonist - The character that stands in direct opposition to the protagonist for a majority of the story. Can be moralistically good but is typically evil. Foil - A character that is very similar to a main character but has a handful of characteristics that contrast the main character. The foil is often used to emphasize the traits of the main character. Conclusion - The ending of the story that wraps up most if not all of the plot points. This is usually set up so that the readers can have satisfactory closure on the characters' endings. Epilogue - An extra chapter that is after the conclusion of the story. Typically this is to provide additional information on what happens after the story has "ended". Genre - A pre-determined set of categories designed to gauge the content of a story or otherwise. There are many different categories and some stories fall under more then one or two. (Some general examples of genres would be Horror, Drama, Fantasy, Action, Adventure, Parody, Satire, and many more. If you want to learn about all of these categories in-depth then research them from your library or from a reliable internet database.) Literary Devices - Various employments of the English language to describe an event or action poetically. There are several literary devices, if you wish to learn every single one of them, research them. (Examples of some; foreshadowing, irony, verbal irony, dramatic irony, metaphor, simile, allusion, etc.) COMPONENTS OF A STORY The first step in this journey is deciding the direction... IDEA (ide1): The idea is the very core of the story. It is essentially the divine spark that makes you want to pick up the proverbial/literal pencil and write wholly for the sake of writing. The idea is what makes or breaks the yoke of comedy, tragedy, adventure or any of the other genres. Ideas can be as epic as overcoming evil to save the world(s) or as personal as overcoming the demons of everyday life. It doesn't matter if they are ideas steeped in magic or reality, or even if the idea is for an original story or a fan-work, the existence of a strong idea is pivotal. Do NOT neglect the magnitude of an idea. Do NOT set aside the impact of what an idea can have. You can have some of the most brilliant wording in the world, but if you have a weak or meaningless concept, all of that eloquence will NOT save your story. The real test of an idea that makes it the simplest yet most difficult part of the story is a term known as "boundaries". Ideas are volatile creatures that constantly tempt the author to pollute them with gaudy and unnecessary details. If the idea cannot be summarized in two or three lines, then the idea most likely has to be revised. However, there is a difference between an idea, an elaborated (more focused) idea and an idea which is in need of revision. Here are crude examples of all three: Idea: Overcoming emotional weakness for the sake of love. -general statement (By starting with something straightforward and simple you can have a clearer idea on what to write.) Elaborated Idea: The experiences of a powerless girl who is not only physically trapped within a castle, but emotionally by her own broken will. Only after she is rescued does she realize that she too has the power within herself to make a difference. -vague basis for a story (Early details are being established, as well as the perspective of the story.) Idea in Need of Revision: There's this princess and she's all angsty and stuff, oh and she is the daughter of a god and a demon. She also has power of light and darkness and stuff and could pretty much destroy the world if she really wanted to, but anyway she gets captured by really mean people that she couldn't run or something away from. And then she has to you know, wait for some really hot guy to save her, and during all this she's all sad and stuff, but she still manages to be really happy and even help some of the meanie villains to solve their own problems but they still keep her locked up, oh and then she finds this PHILOSPHER'S STONE/KEYBLADE/MATERIA/UBERSKILL and then she remembers that she's not really who she thinks she is and is actually a clone- *so forth* -ok, maybe a little harsh, but I do see things like this on FF.net. (This is too much information, attaches Mary-Sue/God-Character attributes and steals several concepts from certain franchises. By having such detailed specifics early on, you can hamper the creativity of your story.) THEME (the1): The theme of a story is another way of saying what the overall message of it is. The theme is the incorporation of additional, but minor ideas which complement and/or contrast the main idea of a story. Theme is the underlying context of a lesson, event or overall question that piques the opinion of the reader. The theme is what accompanies the idea in delivering the story. The theme can be subtle or bold, simple or multi-layered, the elaboration of the theme is based on the intentions of the writer, but the interpretation is solely on the whim of the reader. A more direct classification of what a theme is would be that it is the skeleton of WHAT happens and the MANNER in how it happens. The theme is usually associated with literary devices such as (the various forms of) irony, foreshadowing, metaphors, allusions, etc. However the implementing of the literary devices relies on how you, the author, write them (see TONE/STYLE for details). Generally themes can be put into three categories, broad refers to theme(s) easily seen from a first glance, semi-deep refers to themes(s) heavily implied by the characters/actions/events and underlying refers to themes that are interpreted from breadcrumbs of clues. A couple examples of Themes (from KH): -(broad, all Games) Light vs Darkness - self apparent -(broad, all Games) Good Prevails - ending/conclusion -(semi-deep, KH1/KH2) Inner demons turned him into one - Riku's betrayal (out of jealousy and fear), Xehanort's obsession with Darkness -(semi-deep, KH:CoM/KH2) Not all solutions are clean-cut - Namine being remembered, Riku and the Replica, Some of the OrgXIII "deaths" -(underlying, KH2) All he/they ever wanted was lost - Ansem's mistakes, the quest for knowledge is a dangerous one that has a heavy price to pay. TONE/STYLE (tos1): These two aspects are intertwined with each other in that both are needed to even begin to make descriptive sentences. Tone is keeping the textual content consistent and appropriate for the genre, whereas style is just what it sounds like, ambiguous and having no real guidelines save for flow. Tone is the formal aspect of the two in that it is rooted in appropriate vocabulary usage and diction. Style, however, is what enables the author to distinguish themselves from others, as well as inject unique life into their words. Both can be constantly honed and improved because there is no such thing as a perfect tone or style. This combo-component of the story is difficult to give examples for because there is no right "answer". However this doesn't mean that the universal errors can't be avoided; use a dictionary/thesaurus while writing, re-read your sentences, read any sentences you're unsure of out loud and/or get a second (even third, fourth, etc.) opinion. Inconsistent Tone: She looked mournfully at the broken vase. She hadn't meant to break it. She knelt down and warily picked up a fragment of ceramic where a rose had been engraved. It was one of his favorite vases too. The brittle portion in her fingers cracked into even smaller shards. The freed pieces fell back to the floor like drops of delicate rain. She stared vainly at the ruined pile as if her gaze would restore the vase to its former glory. I bit my lip as I recalled the time when Axel had set his hair on fire. I remembered how goofily Axel had smiled and how Marluxia had only raised an eyebrow at him. What was he going to do to her when he found out? -Namine being worrisome at accidentally breaking one of the vases in Castle Oblivion (The bolded text is the inconsistent portions that will make readers go "what the hell?". This was done on purpose for the sake of example, so it’s fairly obvious, but in your own writing it may not be as apparent. The point of this example is to show the impact of keeping the emotions, thoughts and perspective in a scene consistent.) Weak Tone/Style: Larxene gave him a bad look. Demyx had done something really bad. Larxene wanted to hurt him a lot. -Larxene is angry at Demyx (As you can see, this has extremely weak wording. There is also little variation, emphasis, or much articulation on anything.) Revised Tone/Style: Larxene scowled at him. Demyx had committed a terrible act against her. She wanted to smack him over the head. -Larxene is aggravated by Demyx, for what reason, we don't know (The vocabulary is improved but the style is as bland as prison gruel.) Redux Tone/Style: Larxene snarled at the dim-witted smile Demyx was giving her. The offending water user had dared to barge into her room at an ungodly hour to play his obnoxious sonnets on that wretched ukulele of his. The itching temptation of unleashing hellish vengeance on him was practically irresistible. She mentally reached out to conjure up a rather generous helping of brutality, but then a terrible realization dawned upon her. Ruefully she called back her spiteful bolts of thunder before they could finish forming. Demyx was of higher rank then her. She clenched hands together and ground her teeth down at the fact she had to tolerate his ridiculous music because he was her elder. -Larxene is viciously plotting Demyx's demise but manages to refrain herself from doing so (The difference can be seen from the previous two examples.) Keeping up the pace of walking may seem easy, but... SETTING (set1): The setting not only means what the world looks like, but what are essentially the rules of the story. Setting isn't limited to only geography, but spans over religion, culture, society, time period and so on. (Do the conventional laws of physics apply? Is magic common practice? etc.) The setting is the world that is fleshed out for where events are supposed to occur as well as the plane where characters are to interact with each other. Stories do not take place in an empty void, and if they do, well then, describe that. The background can have just as much of an effect as a character does on the story. The weather of a setting can even set the mood or give more value to the interacting character's actions. If something tragic happens, it is up to you, the author, to decide which would fit more: a sunny day or a stormy night? Depending on how you employ your tone and style of writing, both have the equal potential to be heart-wrenching stages of emotion or failed attempts to garner sympathy. Setting should be treated as though it IS a character. Nature does not stand still. Nature is constantly in motion, living, breathing, and making all sorts of noise at the crack of dawn to remind you just how alive it is. Cities are bustling utopias of technology meshed with people moving to and fro to meet the demands of the hive called civilization. Even the places of supposedly desolate location have their own charisma to them. Deserts can be vast planes of chipped earth, oceans can be pulsating dunes of salty water and expanses of desolate grass can go on until they meet the horizon at world's end. If your story takes place indoors describe the interior, the furniture, even that horribly clashing wallpaper some person slapped onto your wall when you weren't looking. Rooms are meant to be lived in and bear every sign and scar of people living in them. Even if it is an aged room like an attic, there will be something on one of those six walls (four traditional walls plus floor and ceiling) to describe. And if there is no "real" decor, describe the materials that the room is constructed out of. The world is a vivid place; use it to your advantage! Utilize your senses and depict what you perceive through sight, sound, touch, smell and taste. CHARACTERS (chrc1): The characters are just as vital as the idea of the story. Characters make the reader think, take sides, form opinions and of course, feel emotion. Characters make the reader realize what are the ideas and points the author is trying to make. Characters are essentially the actors and tellers of the story (regardless of the point of view it is told in). Without them, the author has only descriptions. Characters are typically portrayals and projections of the author. They can take the form of humans, animals, plants or any other being capable of being described. Characters have practically unlimited possibilities in terms of appearance, demeanor, etc. The only limitations would be how the author characterizes them (see CHARACTERIZATION for details). The characters of a story usually have their own strengths and weaknesses as much as they have goals and ambitions. There is no such thing as a "perfect" character with no weaknesses. There are very few exceptions to this rule in a truly balanced story (side-characters who are simply there to be population stock -passersby, nameless store keepers, etc. - are omitted from this rule). There are all sorts of guidelines on how to create characters, but how you do it is a right only the original author has. If you are unsure of how to build a character, look at yourself and to the people who surround you. (Opinion!) Personally I follow the rule that for every notable strength a character has, there are at least one and a half weaknesses to balance it out. Self-Insertion Characters: This is a subcategory to characters. Self-insertion characters are basically when the author decides to create a character to become a part of particular pre-established universe. This category of character is usually a free-for-all. However, it is generally frowned upon if the author assigns themselves a lead role that replaces a canon character (such as just outright killing Kairi and taking her place). This is especially true if the author holds the claim of the story still being loyal to the canon-universe (parodies and works of satire are an exception to this). Other times, self-insertion characters are "fan-mode" versions of the authors themselves who usually appear in fics of humor. (Opinion!) If I was a self-inserted character in the KH universe, I would be Dusk Underling #3,985 who gives 150 exp when killed. This isn’t to say that self-insertion is automatically a “bad” thing, some authors can actually pull this off beautifully, but only because they have a thorough grasp of the surrounding elements as well as pour in a good amount of effort to blend their self-insertion in. CHARACTERIZATION (chrz1): Basically how the characters behave and act to the events the author puts them through. Once more this is a category relative to the characters and to the author. However, a word of precaution, keep your characters' behaviors distinct. Humans may be capable of ALL emotions, but everyone has their own unique set of quirks, habits, personal values and ideologies. Sample Character Stock: A good-humored girl who is soft-voiced and likes to think the best of others. She has a tendency to believe that she is at fault for the problems that happen around/to her. As a result of this mindset, she apologizes constantly and does not often say what is going on in her mind and if she does, she does so with the most polite caution. Subconsciously she wants to prove that she is not as helpless so she is earnest about pleasing others. She also does not share her troubles without a good amount of cajoling because she is afraid of becoming a burden to that person. Situation: One day she is out walking her dog, she gets distracted by something and her dog gets hit by a car. The car does not stop, it keeps on driving. (What would she do next?) In Character: She would be in shock. Next she would probably run up to her poor pet and apologize to it. She'd most likely shed tears over it and probably rationalize the entire ordeal as an accident on the driver's part and that it was her fault for not taking better care of her pet. Out of Character: She would scream bloody murder complete with angry curses to the heavens. She would then run after the car, spontaneous flaming pitchfork in hand, while her dog continues to bleed on the street. She would follow the insensitive driver to his home and wait until nightfall. Under the cover of darkness she would break into his home and slice open the driver's throat and laugh evilly to herself. The example speaks for itself, but some writers occasionally mix up the characters' reactions with their own. Most of the time, the mistakes of incorrect characterization are not as starkly obvious as in the example; usually it is in more subtle nuances. (Opinion!) Some authors are actually afraid of making their protagonists show any visible signs of weakness (crying or being petrified with fear), suffer any misfortune (realistically) or generally have any habits that the author considers improper/"gross" (such as nail-biting to name one of many). This is a heavy mistake that severs readers from identifying with the characters as well as any believability in them! Now this isn't to say character's personalities are set in stone (or that they can't be role-model characters), but significant behavioral change is a painstakingly gradual process. Some characters actually don't change at all (habits are hard to break, but ingrained ideals? Good luck with that!). The most radical source of change is usually negative, such as the death of a loved one, a traumatic experience, etc. But remember, not everyone is automatically sent into a state of crippling depression because of something tragic. They can grieve as much as they want, but not every single character has to mourn for many years. The best and most impartial policy on characterization is to once more, look at yourself, friends, family, etc. Fan-Characterization: This is a subcategory to characterization. Each individual's interpretation of a character is a little different. Respectively, as long as it is not something extraordinarily (satire/parody is exempt) outlandish, it’s perfectly viable (unless the original author/creator declares otherwise). Everyone is entitled to their perception of a character. However if they want to ensure an "accurate" portrayal, they should heavily reference any and all available sources. (If change from "canon" character is desired, the author should work at creating a logical process to which the character can change into whatever characterization they have planned. There are amazing authors out there who have been able to accomplish this believably!) Sample Characters: Castle Oblivion's underground members, Zexion, Vexen and Lexaeus. Situation: A normal day in Castle Oblivion. In Character: (OPINION!) Zexion would most likely call yet another meeting to discuss their progress with infiltrating the neophytes' rather shady operations. Vexen would most likely list off the latest updates on a project or any observations he had made of Axel/Larxene/Marluxia; probably tag on a snarky remark about them as well. Lexaeus would listen and make relatively realistic suggestions after hearing a substantial amount of Zexion's and Vexen's comments/criticisms about their current situation. (This is MY perception of these characters based on what I interpreted from what was revealed about them.) Out of Character: Prior to the creation of the Riku Replica, Zexion would whine to the others about how lacking a heart made him feel terribly sad. But now that he isn't the only pretty one, he spends his days writing in his book about how unfair life is. Vexen spends all of his time in the labs researching ways to preserve his studly attractiveness. So far he has only perfected the formula for keeping the hair on his head from falling off or turning white. As per usual, Lexaeus would spend his days in the corner of the room; drooling stupidly and mumbling in caveman speak to himself. You see despite how large his muscles were, his brain was three sizes too small. And every once in a while, the three of them would hold hands as they frolicked down the halls of Castle Oblivion to go see their favorite topside friends, Axel, Larxene and Marluxia. (This made me snicker, but in all seriousness, this is an example of characters not being characterized properly. Once more, unless you are writing satire/parody, this is not acceptable "canon" characterization unless you want to be flamed or heavily criticized.) Fan-Characterizations are usually difficult to gauge because they are entirely opinion based on BOTH sides (the author/reader) of the story. INTERACTION (inter1): The interactions between characters are what (typically) progress the story. Interaction is what makes characters become the best of friends or the most bitter of enemies. The resulting alliances and grudges formed are what create solutions or problems. Interaction is also what affects the surrounding characters, setting or situation. One tool is dialogue; the verbal communication between two or more characters. Another is monologue where a character essentially talks to him/herself OUT LOUD; the flipside of this is introspection (some actually refer to this as soliloquy) where the character THINKS to themselves and reflects/assesses the situation. What isn't spoken is conveyed through physical actions such as expressions, reactions, initiatives, etc. Speech and action are often combined in order to allow the readers to fully comprehend what is going on. Dialogue can be flirtatious, witty, argumentative, etc. to show the relationships between characters. Monologues can be philosophical, whimsical, conflicting, etc. to show how the character personally thinks and/or believes. Physical actions are dynamic, visible, etc. and encompass all the perspectives of a character's expression, and are most importantly, visual. Although authors may spend impressive amounts of time writing the speech of characters, if they are only writing line after line of dialogue, then the words hold little meaning. Text cannot speak with emotion or emphasis; that is job of the words surrounding them to do. The description of the actions that the characters take while saying their lines also share the burden of defining the intended emotions of them. Sample (Dialogue): "Aren't you going to help me?" Xigbar asked. Xaldin replied with, "I thought the great Xigbar did things on his own." (With only the bare minimum to designate it as speech the readers don't know HOW he is saying this or really anything else going on in the scene. It should also be noted exactly how RANDOM the dialogue is in that it just exists.) Sample (Dialogue + Action): Xigbar laughed curtly to himself as he rubbed the back of his neck bemusedly. He gave a strained smile from where he was buried under the pile of books he'd toppled over. Xaldin did not move from where he stood over him. The only part of him that changed was the slight smirk on his face that grew ever larger at seeing the sniper's uncomfortable predicament. Xigbar frowned bitterly at the smug look and glared distastefully at the lancer. "Aren't you going to help me?" Xigbar asked with a pompous scoff. Xaldin folded his arms calmly and tilted his head at the indirect request. The lancer replied with dry insult and wry apathy, "I thought the great Xigbar did things on his own." (The bolded actions that surround the line inform the readers that Xigbar is indeed displeased and WHAT he is unhappy about specifically along with some additions to what Xaldin did. This also 'subtly' expands the reader's scope on Xigbar's and Xaldin's personality and tones of voice.) As an additional note to dialogue and speech is pronunciation. Certain characters may have different pronunciations due to accents, slang or dialect ("Hey brother" vs " 'ey bro", "what are you doing" vs "whatcha doin' ", "we should go on a walk" vs "perhaps we shall take a stroll", etc.). It is at the author's discretion whether or not they want to emphasize these traits. It is also important to know that the speech of a character is not always grammatically or contextually correct. Another note about writing dialogue is that characters have verbal parameters. A character who is not very studious or keen on increasing his/her diction will not be using elaborate words from an Oxford dictionary in a typical conversation without the aid of that reference material, nor will a character who is supposed to be scrupulously eloquent suddenly start slurring like a drunkard without the appropriate amounts of liquor. SPOKEN (aka, actual speech) dialogue should NEVER be written in "1337" or "txt cht" (satire/parody as well as 'reading off what is written' are exempt from this rule). Dialogue that is intended to be immediately understood by the readers should be limited to one language unless it is something plot or character-related (ie: a foreigner will most likely not have a grasp on the native language but may still try to communicate verbally anyway; or a very cryptically ambiguous person, etc.). The main point of mentioning this is to caution other authors against needlessly flipping between two different languages without a good reason (see RESEARCH/REFERENCE for details). References to verbal interaction and body language (physical interaction) can be found through out everyday conversation between perfectly normal people. However, it is still up to the author to decide what actions mean and what connotations certain phrases may carry. The end of one road and seeing the next... RESEARCH/REFERENCE (rere1): Just as this implies, if you are going to be including references to pre-existing things in the story, it is best to research them as much as possible. This is not to say that you cannot have your own spin on it, but if you don't want to be criticized/mocked for misusing a myth or otherwise mythological figure, then commit some time to research. A very public as well as well-known example of research gone possibly awry in terms of naming would be Square-Enix(Soft)'s Shiva vs Hindu's Shiva: SE Shiva: Female summon/avatar associated with the element of ice. This Shiva is elegant and typically scantily clad as well as to some degree, blue-skinned. Almost always one of the first summons acquired and is generally weaker (in comparison to the other summons) by the late portion of the game. Hindu Shiva: A powerful male deity in the Hindu religion. Associated with destruction (or reformation) and fire among many other aspects. Hot-tempered and in most depictions, having blue skin as well as additional sets of arms brandishing symbolic items. He is one of the three most predominant aspects of Hinduism (aka, core deities). This is not a shot at SE's creative license, and it was most likely only a borrowing of name, but the comparison is ridiculous to those not familiar with the SE franchise and are more enlightened on Hinduism. Researching is not only limited to naming, it can apply to other subjects as well. If you do not know what Dia de Los Muertos is, well then you should research it before you go and claim that it is the Easter Bunny's birthday in your story. If you do not know what cremation is, look it up before you say it is the process by which whipped cream is made. If you do not know the fairytale of The Magical Paintbrush, read it before you make any assumptions on it; and the list goes on. And most importantly, if you plan to include a known/current foreign language, research it thoroughly, ideally with someone who speaks the dialect fluently! In much older days, the internet was not available, but this is the present, where there IS the internet. However, this does not mean any website you look up speaks only the truth. Keep in mind the reliability of your sources before you use the information you collected from them! The library is also another option should you discover that the internet is not serving your purpose. EXECUTION (exec1): This is not where someone is being put to death for their crimes; this refers to how a task is carried out. The execution of a story is how all of the previously mentioned components are woven together to create the flow that carries the readers from start to end (also known as what makes readers what to turn to the next page with anticipation). The execution of a story is one of the more technical components of a story. Execution entails spelling, context, structure and grammar. That alone is what separates the rough drafts from the final products. (IMPORTANT!) Do not forget to check over your work before finalizing/posting it. You can use Word Document programs, however machines can be flawed in their "editing" in just that, it is a program, not a human being. Re-reading should be done intermittently- it is extremely easy to overlook silly errors because you have been re-reading the same text for who knows how long. Also, having someone else read over your work, such as a formal editor or a friend, is beneficial because they are human and have a better chance of understanding your writing overall. By having a person look over your work, you can discover neglected plot holes or other banes of story-telling before it's too late. Looking past the cage's bars and aiming for the sky... EGO (ego1): The term ego refers to the author themselves. This may seem like it has nothing to do with the story but yet it can mean everything. The esteem of the author can have noticeable impact on the story, especially if the author's ego is negative. Authors who have low esteem may be too shy to let others see their work and so, sadly, their stories go untold. Authors who are braggarts may have negative effects on other writers as well as to themselves because they refuse to improve themselves (whether they truly need to or not). Ego is something that relies entirely on the person. Ego doesn't allow for an author to stagnate, it causes them to do so. Ego comes into play when the author receives feedback for their work. Praise is priceless and carries nurturing meaning, it lets the author know that what they are doing is right and that they should continue to grow. However, too much praise and an author may lose sight of their humility. Insults are negative and harsh; they degrade the author as a means of diverting them from taking any further specific actions. Critiques are one of the most helpful gifts to give an author. If done properly, they not only encourage the author to continue writing as they do now, but include how to improve their writing as well. Balanced critiques reward an author’s strengths and offer alternatives on how to eliminate an author's weaknesses. The main part of ego that authors have to keep in mind is that they determine the merit of their ego for themselves. They have the power to determine what to improve and what to keep the same. Authors should at least pay the minimum amount of common respect to each other. If you see an author in need, critique them if you want to see improvement, don't outright pick them apart just to justify whatever negativity you may feel. If you find an author that you can respect, let them know. Your ego is your pride as an author and no one can take that away from you unless you truly let them. ENDWORD (end1): Thank you for reading this guide. With any luck this will have helped my fellow writers and will improve the writing community as a whole. Thank you for your time and enjoy crafting your own stories. THANKS (thanks1): A big thanks to anyone who finds this helpful as well as to those amazing authors both on the forums, ff.net and elsewhere! Another thanks to anyone who decides to direct writers to this reference as well at to those who contribute to this guide's contents! A big "thank you" to Jade Rhade, JustANobody, The Soul-Eater and Saeru for their viewable inputs! CREDIT (credit1): Zandyne (Version 1.0 original writer/type-setter and general examples), Tal - #1 RO Sniper and awesome friend (Version 1.0 Test-Beta) the English language, KH-Vids Creative Corner for hosting and all the stories that were collectively referenced to derive these components from! Jade Rhade, JustANobody, The Soul-Eater and Saeru for helping out with their additional posts!
This is a thread created to direct an anonymous to an appropriate thread for their debate. This is a thread discussing the existence of Ghosts. Do these spirits/apparitions/emodiments of supernatural phenomena exist? Or are they merely a figmentation of the mind? Does your proof lie in proving it right/wrong in the areas of science, personal testimony, the words of religious domain or otherwise? Speak your mind here.
This may be considered a very personal topic for some. For those who participate, think out your responses clearly before posting, especially if this is a meaningful topic for you. All over the world we, the living, set aside vast areas of land so that we can put down a spot for the deceased. In some cases, hundreds of years later, we can still see the names and dates of the departed whose loved ones may no longer be visiting their graves. Should we remove these graves or leave them? Should we continue to rip out pits of soil so that we can put in grand caskets complimented by a stone with an engraved epitaph that marks these areas? Should cremation become a requisite if we continue to run out of space for paying our respects to the dead? Should we sacrifice the rituals we conduct to pay our repects or shall we be a little more conservative? We don't live forever, and the Earth is not unlimited in space. What should we do and why? Please share your thoughts on this matter.
Alternate title is "How I killed a tree and wasted my English period on Tuesday". Current WIP (Work in Progress) here is the rough sketch page with color blobs to distinguish the messy characters' lines. The color blobs are NOT the color scheme, that would be HORRIBLE. Also the pink in the background is the misc. background that is going to be created digitally from scratch (the continuous purple is the mid-ground), so don't comment on that. Any other constructive suggestions are welcome. It's called Garden Court because I based all of the designs off of things you find in a garden, mainly insects in this case. Some are fairly obvious while some of the others are pretty obscure. There is only ONE boy in the picture, the rest are female. Also, if its not too much, I'd like to hear what any of you thought was the "story" when you first saw the picture. If the colors are TOO blinding, here is the NON-colored version. Feel free to guess who is what; here are some of the "narrative" phrases that spawned their design. The Ant got lost in the forest again from not following Old Hopper's instructions. Miss Bee is ditzy and a bit on the dense side. Widow Spider is a cynically humored woman who is very hard to read. Madame Mantis is rather cold and she is formal and prim. Lady Butterfly is sharp-tongued and is very vain. Grandmother Fly doesn't speak much and hates the sun. Daughter Cricket is playful despite having such poor health and eyesight. Tomboy Hornet is ill-tempered because of the company she unfortunately keeps.
Genre: General Classification: One-shot/Theory-Fic Rating: PG (at most) Exclusive to KH-Vids Forum Original Preview Line: Fate runs on definitions of trinity. Three enigmas pay a visit to a dead world. Time is but a word to those who are part of the bloodline. But what do they relive, the past, present or future? Original Author's Pre-Note: This is a theory-fic I wrote based on the secret movie in KH2, the first and really short one with the three people in armor and all the keyblades in the ground. Originally this was going to be the epilogue to TTR, but due to recent viewing of KH2:FM+'s secret movie, that idea has been brutally scrapped. However, I oddly like this and want to share it before the next KH game comes out. I'd like to look back on this and possibly laugh at how far off or close (by some slim miracle) this comes to what Nomura has planned. Feel free to share your thoughts on this or any theories you have. --------------------------------------------- Lost Words of a Late Tomb --------------------------------------------- Fragments of bone white and gnarled metal drifted about the murky void, only the largest island managed to hold itself together amongst the debris. The threads that composed time and barren dimension shimmered briefly. A trinity set of polished ebony greaves simultaneously met with the surface of the decaying island. Their oil-slicked armor shimmered and clicked as they collectively surveyed the wasteland that remained. Each was clad so heavily in armor, not a speck of anything other than the raven metal was exposed on their forms. Despite the eradication of their features, their helms held melded traces of who was beneath the metallic masks. The tallest of the three had a helmet which had the most pointed appearance, like a dog's vigil ears stiff and straining for the faintest of sounds. To his right was a short figure with a flattened covering with metal ordained with a more curved likeness to a creature of the night. To his left was the lithest of the three, her crown of sunless sky was folded to the back. The three shook their heads dismally at the aftermath of a catastrophe they seemed to have understood all too well. A hollow and echoing voice rang from their vigil leader. "It would appear our comrade turned traitor and heretic found what he was looking for in this world of true destruction." The night companion kneeled to the cracked floor and placed a gauntlet wrapped hand to its surface. He offered a tone of receding sympathy, "But, he tried so hard to come back to us. Why couldn't we just bring him back?" The sunless maiden kindly chastised him, "He is called a heretic for a more then justified reason. He turned his back to us, and did it with the fullest measure of his soul, the circumstances are of little consequence. And this does not even begin to mention that he also committed the most grievous sin of our order-." The vigil leader placed a halting hand on the sunless maiden's shoulder and she quieted, he spoke for her what their night companion seemed to have been unwilling to accept, "He made an attempt to destroy not only the order, but perverse fate's bloodline- our bloodlines." The night companion stood from where he was knelling. He gazed up at the star stripped sky of the broken world as if searching for something grand that was missing from its unnatural composition. "They why didn't we take care of him ourselves? Our premature bloodlines were able to save the worlds, so why didn't we just save their childhoods and do it for them?" This time the vigil leader shifted his gaze to the ground, the sunless maiden took it upon herself to purge the void filled with such harsh questions, "You shouldn't ask what you already know the answers to." The night companion scoffed, the sunless maiden was nearly able to see the wry half-smile behind the mask of metal, "Humor me- I know what you tried to do with your bloodline's heir, Kairi. You tried to hide her away on another world." The sunless maiden started forward, but was stopped once more by their vigil leader who spoke with renewed resolution, "And we all saw how that failed, fate still found her, but at least our bloodlines were there to aid her. And can you truly blame her? Had Riku, or your Sora been trapped on that world with that madman and his disciples, we would have done the same. She was merely preserving her bloodline. You cannot hold it against her." The night companion turned and tilted his head curiously at their vigil leader, expecting the rest of the answer to his rhetorical inquiry. Their vigil leader continued, this time waving his hands to the post-calamity that surrounded them, "And as for us not interfering, the heretic made sure that all paradoxes would be locked until his demise. Even if we used the powers of light and dark- even the harmonious twilight, we would be unable to reverse the events that have transpired, for he is our own. And what the bloodline commits cannot be taken back by fate. That is our order's cursed gift." The younger of them shook where he stood, voice crackling with utter hatred, "The worlds are separated yet only the three of us have been left to watch it- and our bloodlines are going to be punished with that fate as well! All of us will suffer no solace until what the heretic has wrought has been completely destroyed! And when in the kingdom will that be?! Another Ageless eon? Another endless war?!" The night companion felt the sunless maiden's metal hands wrap around his shoulders and his voice caught itself. Night's companion looked from the hands bracing his shoulders back to where their leader stood. In their leader's hand was the newly materialized form of a metal weapon shaped in the outline of a key. Their vigil leader held it up and was turning it in the air to survey its deeply tarnished hilt, "This is the cause of such conflict taking place. Power that is accessible only to those of the bloodline, time and soul being all that truly defines each generation of bloodline's era as different." The smaller of the two scowled from where he stood, but he did not break out of the loosening restraint of his friend. Their vigil leader spun the giant key slowly in his hand, "History is said to go in circles, but really it goes in cycles. It can try to divert from the seen path with near infinite twists and turns, but it will eventually run its course back to the beginning. And that's because after history treads every conceivable path, the only empty place left to go would be back to where it all began. Do you recall what this really means my old friend?" The keyblade came to a stop and the tip was dug into the brittle ground. Night's companion remained silent. Their vigil leader resumed speaking his lesson, "Fate works in a sacred triad. It has never broken this unspoken rule. Everything is composed of three parts, everything. Just like the light, the darkness and the twilight- the vast grayness that divides the other two." Night's companion heard a mirage of a sad gasp behind him. Morbid truth clicked in his mind. Night's companion stuttered and he felt the sunless maiden's form strain to hold them both back. "Y-you don't- b-but that would mean-." Their vigil leader gave them a forlorn laugh. The keyblade disappeared from his grasp in a spray of tainted particles. "Each of us plays a role. We have all been told our roles of the hero, the innocent and the villain, and we must serve them well." Night's companion shook with the weight of an undeniable destiny. The sunless maiden spoke for the two of them, "We just don't want to see you end up like the tragedy that met Xehanort." Night's companion broke out of the other's hold and he dashed to their vigil leader. "You're not like Xehanort! You're not like that heretic! Y-You're a hero just like us! W-we'll make sure you don't betray us or the order! We'll save you!" Their vigil leader chuckled with the deepest sardonic he knew, "Don't you remember what your stories told you? Villains don't have happy endings." Night's companion launched forward and wrapped his arms around the metal of the other's arm desperately, "We can make one then! We're fate's bloodlines! We can change it!" Their vigil leader pulled his arm out of his companion's grasp and leapt back to protect against further attempts. Their vigil leader began to speak quietly as he reached behind his head where the helm clicked in place, "I wish I could believe that as well but-." The black helm came off and the other two gasped at the stranger's face their friend's voice came from. He let go and the helm hit the floor with a metal clank of finality. Darkened lids that were once pale skin pulled back to reveal eyes that matched the yellow gleam of their enemy. "Fate has already decided I don't get a happy ending." --------------------------------------------- Author's Post Note: As said earlier, this was based on the OLD KH2 secret movie. So in retrospect, yes things ARE different in comparision to the NEW KH2+ secret movie- and the reason why they don't have their "real" names. Some clarifications, for those who may be confused, Vigil Leader = Terra/The tall one, Night Companion = Ven/The short one, Sunless Maiden = Aqua/The girl. It had been written based on my own skewed thought process and what I'd seen in the KH games. Another point I should make is that there was originally more, but after watching the movie I decided to just cut it off there at that line which ironically works out in the end.
This is the entire fan-comic, I thought it would be more fitting to post it here rather then the Arts/Graphics section. (From what I can tell that section is more for standalone images right?) NOTE: The art in the first part is ungodly. The art in the second part is still ungodly, but not as dramatically. The art in the third part is "acceptable" but barely, and that's solely because it is colored. Any comments on how to improve parts 1 or 2 will be ignored, they're OLD. As for why the name blank-death is prevelant in the bottom corners of pages 1-10, that is my screen name on another place. I offer skeptics proof that I did all of these pages with a photoshop "In Progress" screencap of the LAST COLORED PAGE (so don't click it until you see/read all of the "final" versions of the 15 pages) proof Irony: Started when KH:CoM came out in the US, Finished when RE:CoM came out in Japan. Genre: Crack/Slapstick Humor Pairing(s): LOOK ELSEWHERE Effort: Minimum Mediums: Pencil, exclusive to the last 5 pages Adobe Photoshop for colors/text. Rating: PG-13/T+ (R/Ma for one little WORD) PART 1 - early 2005 (when KH:CoM was first played) Page 1 here (language!) Page 2 here Page 3 here Page 4 here Page 5 here PART 2 -2005 to 2006? (after procrastinating a LOT) Page 6 here Page 7 here Page 8 here Page 9 here Page 10 here PART 3 -2006? (after finally getting off my lazy *** to finish the stupid "project") Page 11 here Page 12 here Page 13 here Page 14 here Page 15 here
(Please Delete Poll) KH:CoM Comic If a mod or an admin finds this, could they please delete this poll? MiniPoll closed. Verdict : POST.
Another copy paste to celebrate/spread the word of the Romantic-Comedy Theme of this week's Story of the Week Contest! Some encouragement to everyone in the forums to do your best and make us laugh and feel the warm fuzzies of a good story! You have it in you, seize it and put it to the digital paper! :) end shout out/blatant SotW plugging. This project has actually been on a silent hiatus back on FF.net due to lack of a story spark. Yes, I can butcher your beloved genre of humor too! This pet project is much lighter in practically every aspect in comparision to BEHT for those who have read that. Some characters are in character for the most part, EXCEPT for one which is BLINDINGLY OOC (out of character) until decided otherwise. Takes place in a canon-AUverse well after the events of KH2. Enjoy the three chapter sandwich. Comments, feedback, suggestions, flames? Have at it! Chapter One: Welcome to the SEDFEE Shop! --------------------------------------- Congratulations and thank you for doing business with the SquareEnix-Disney Extra-Extraordinary (SEDFEE) Shop! SEDFEE works day and night to provide the most enjoyable and up-to-date products for our loyal fans and customers. We at SEDFEE Shop hope you will fully enjoy your recent purchase! If for any reason you are not satisfied come back to SEDFEE Shop and we'll double your satisfaction or your money back! Remember the SEDFEE Shop motto, "If its extra-extraordinary and full of fun it most likely came from the SEDFEE Shop who's #1!" --------------------------------------- It was yet another pleasant day in the newly restored Radiant Garden. With the heartless and nobodies sealed from the world, peace seemed to have finally returned to the shining land. Birds were flying, children were laughing in the streets- "YUFFIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" -and Leon was pissed off. The bubbly self-proclaimed great ninja skipped to where Leon was seething in front of Cid's shop. "Yes Squaaaaaall?" "It's LEON- and what the HELL IS THIS?" Leon jabbed a hand out and spastically motioned to the box in front of him. It was a simple wooden box covered in a plethora of stamps, packaging tape and several obnoxiously colored logos that read "SEDFEE Shop". But with the way the fighter was pointing an accusing finger at it, one would have thought it was some sort of affront to all that was sane and holy. Yuffie wisely chose to overlook his drama, "Oh, it's the order from SEDFEE Shop, I thought you would like it." She reached up and gave the box a proud pat on its' wooden top. The box was as tall as her but forebode something more terrible then any of her pranks...even more then the time she had stolen all of his pants and hung them all over town- "Wait, what do you mean 'something I would like'?" He raised an eyebrow. Yuffie was not meant to be trusted with any ideas, any more then Cid was to be trusted with cooking...Leon mentally scrunched up his nose as he recalled the time he discovered that a cigarette had magically found its way into his toast. The plucky girl rocked back and forth on her heels and spoke playfully, "Weeeeell, you know how its been really quiet all around Radiant Garden riiiiight?" He slowly nodded even though he truly did not like where any part of the conversation was possibly going. "Especially since Sora, Donald and Goofy left riiiight?" The color drained from his face. Leon's eye gave an involuntary twitch as he cast a horrific glance at the box next to the perky ninja. With a terrified look he quickly closed the distance between himself and Yuffie and placed his hands on her shoulders. "YOU PUT THEM INTO A BOX AND FED-EX'D THEM HERE?!" He was now madly shaking her at this point. Maybe if he shook her hard enough the box would cease existing. She pried herself out of his grasp before giving him a look of bewilderment. She dusted herself off and placed her hands on her hips indignantly. "OF COURSE NOT!" she pouted angrily and gave a vexed 'hmph!'. A flabbergasted Leon looked back at her. Her infectious smile crept back onto her face. "I got something much better!" She flashed him the victory sign and gave him a wink. All logic seemed to collapse in on itself in Leon's poor mind. ---------------------------------------- Thank you for purchasing a Kingdom Hearts Franchise Character! We hope you will thoroughly enjoy the Character Unit and its' Various Features. Any questions you may have about the unit can be answered in the included Owner's Manual. Any problems you may have can be addressed and solved at "Customer Service" which can be contacted via Moogle-LiveCom or Moogle-Mail. Once again, thank you for your purchase and we at SEDFEE wish you an Extra-Extraordinary Day! ---------------------------------------- The four sides of the box dramatically fell down to the ground as if they were programmed to do so once the top had been removed. Yuffie hopped up and down on the ground at seeing what was inside. Leon stared at it dumbfounded. "It's.....it's......" It was the only word Leon seemed to be able to form at the moment. Personally he believed whatever was left of his already traumatized mind had just died. "It's great isn't it Squall? See I told you it was much better!" Yuffie grinned madly and patted him heartily on the back. Leon continued to gawk at what was in front of him. "It's a.....Sora clone...." His jaw would have broken off and skittered across the ground if the action was physically possible from being surprised. If there was any moment in his life that he wished he was having some sort of freakish nightmare, now would have been the best of times. "Noooo! It's a Sora UNIT! It's like a pet only more human-y!" She gave a defiant stomp on the ground as if it would suddenly justify her words. "...." Leon tried to console himself with silence. Maybe if he ignored her and the thing that was in front of him long enough, they would both spontaneously implode from the lack of attention. "Anyway, here's the instruction booklet. Have fun Squaaaaaaaaaaall!" She tossed him a small tome of a book before disappearing in a cloud of grey smoke. The book lifelessly hit Leon's shoulder before it sadly flopped facedown onto the cobbled street. "Why me?" He gave the sky a mournful look and quietly begged for whatever higher power that existed to smite him out of his horrible misery. Much to Leon's dismay, no such divine force struck him. --------------------------------------- Chapter Two: May Damage Sanity! --------------------------------------- The Sora Unit is one of the most popular Kingdom Hearts Character Units! The Sora Unit is widely known for his high compatibility rates with other KH Character Units and people in general. The most notable strengths of the Sora Unit would be his courage and overall personable qualities. The Sora Unit is a wonderfully optimistic friend for many ages and an equally easy unit to care for. The Sora Unit comes in two versions, KH1 (default red) and KH2 (default black). The main difference between the two would be the age difference and that the KH2 Unit is slightly more mature and comes with (optional) Drive Form Capabilities. Both versions come with the default Kingdom Keyblade (a variety of others can be purchased, but they are not included in the bought package) and a Halloweentown costume. As an added bonus for fans, both versions of the Sora Unit now come with a collectable (as well as edible) Papou fruit! --------------------------------------- Leon had somewhat calmed down once he had hauled the Sora Unit inside of Cid's shop. He felt more at ease about the awkward situation when all of Radiant Garden wasn't giving him weird looks for "his" life-sized replica of the Keyblade Wielder. At least it was the Sora that had more buckles and chains then even Cloud owned in his entire dresser. Letting out a dejected sigh, he began to flip through the manual Yuffie had thrown at him before she disappeared off to her ninja fantasy land. A stray thought of malice suddenly crossed his mind. An evil smirk formed on his lips and he chuckled to himself. He figured this whole thing was some twisted way of Yuffie getting back at him for eating the last piece of Aerith's cheesecake. "Fight fire with more fire..." She had been chipping away at his sanity for as long as he'd known her, it was about damn time he was going to get back at that little brat. Having skimmed past the fifty something pages with various warnings of "not intended for children under the age of 5" and "do not iron clothes on body" he finally got to the 'instruction' part of the book. The brunette couldn't help but laugh darkly at his impending revenge against the ninja. Standing in the garage doorway was Cid, who had fully intended to go back into the shop to find a fresh pack of cigarettes only to be met with a disturbing sight. The normally stoic Leon had finally snapped as far as he could tell, complete with the "evil rubbing of the hands together deviously" and "insidious cackling". The mechanic decided he could live fifteen minutes without his beloved cancer sticks. With cautiously slow steps, he made his way out of the shop room and back into the safety of the garage. ---------------------------------------- The pre-set personality for the Sora Unit is known as the "canon setting". This setting ensures that the Sora Unit will act mainly "Sora". In other words, the Sora Unit will be affectionate, somewhat clueless, cheerful, courageous and friendly. The Canon Setting Sora will get along well with a variety of "Good/Light" KH Character Units such as the (not included) Riku Unit, Kairi Unit, FF Hero Units, Disney Hero Units, etc. The Canon Setting Sora can also get along with (not guaranteed or included) Axel Unit, Roxas Unit, Namine Unit, and a select few of the Modified Darkness/Nobody Units. The Canon Setting Sora will most likely NOT get along with Canon Setting "Darkness/Nobody" KH Character Units such as the (not included) Ansem Unit, (most) Organization XIII Units, Heartless Companion Units, Nobody Companion Units, FF Villain Unit(s), Disney Villain Units, etc. In the case of Modified Units, SEDFEE cannot be held responsible for what may happen to your Sora Unit or the other party's KH Character Unit (negative or otherwise), we suggest using some foresight to plan ahead in case such an event may occur. However, there are a variety of ways to alter/modify your Sora Unit's personality by setting him to the "custom setting". This can be done with manual modifications, however it is not suggested. Another method is to set the Sora Unit to his Custom Setting, and then "teach" him specific personality traits, much like a parent would teach their children how to behave. The most popular, effective and convenient way to Mod your Sora Unit is to download Personality Mods off of the internet. SEDFEE acknowledges and affiliates with several of the legal downloads available at ffKHMOD.net, simply download a specific Mod ID number onto a Mod chip (not included), "feed" it to your Sora Unit and the he will have processed it in 1-2 hours. We strongly urge you to fully research any Mods you may load into the Sora Unit in order to avoid possible problems; SEDFEE does not take responsibility for any actions your Sora Unit may take once you have Modified him. --------------------------------------- Leon had opted to sit hunched over the large keyboard and computer that was located in the basement under the now restored-restoration site. He had dragged the limp Sora Unit down with him and it now sat quietly in a slumped heap in the corner. There was a devilish glint in his eyes as he scanned over the vast directory of ffKHMOD dot net for the "ULTIMATE/UBERLY EVIL SORA" Unit Mod. A somewhat worried Tron would occasionally warn him with script windows about viruses, spyware and strange documents that seemed to elaborate on the mating rituals between certain humans. The newly-crazed brunette ignored the AI and typed in several queries for 'satanic', 'violent', 'psychotic', and 'Saix'. Much to his irritation, no suitable Sora Unit Mods were found. He raked a free hand through his hair with frustration. Damn the internet and its lack of flexibility for his plots against that wretched girl! Through gritted teeth he muttered, "Damn Sora and his hero-ness." Tron would have given Leon a bizarre look if he could have through a computer screen; so he settled for voicing his concern "But, if Sora wasn't a hero, he wouldn't be Sora!" Realization and new ideas dawned upon Leon. With excited finger clacks he typed in a query for "Anti-Sora". Back up in the shop, Cid had crawled out of his garage lair again. Now that the crazy Leon was gone, Cid could finally retrieve his precious box of cigarettes. He briefly nuzzled his stubble-covered cheek against the happy pack of nicotine before yanking out a new stick and lighting it up quickly. He took several drags and sighed with contentment. ----------------------------------------- In order to activate your Sora Unit, please turn on the switch located inside one of his honking big shoes (yellow for KH1, black for KH2). Upon pressing the button, you must recite the activation code that is unique to your Sora Unit within 45 seconds of the button pressing (activation code is located in both this manual on the following line and on the outside of the box your Sora Unit arrived in; should the activation code have been lost, contact Customer Services via Moogle-LiveCom or Moogle-Mail). Failure to recite the activation code within those 45 seconds will result in your Sora Unit not being activated. Please refrain from activating your Sora Unit until you are absolutely sure about the setting you want him at. The dial settings are located in the shoe OPPOSITE of the activation button. The settings are as follows: Canon Setting is the default and most "well-rounded" setting. Valor is a newly introduced setting in which your Sora Unit will be more inclined to "courageous" and "adventurous" actions, as well as become a defender/guardian of sorts for the owner. Sweetheart is another newly introduced setting in which the Sora Unit will be more inclined to "romantic" and "cheerful" behavior (more specifically to whoever ate the included Papou fruit). Lastly, there is the Custom Setting, at which point you may "feed" the Mod chip to your Sora Unit. (Please note that the Mod chip is not included!) ------------------------------------------- Tron let out a small and static whimper from the now smoldering remains of the computer. Leon stood breathing heavily in front of the crackling pile of hardware, gunblade in hand and drooping to the floor. "But Leon! It's not my fault! Blame the parameters set up by the Mod Creator Users!" Through loud gasps he spoke dazedly, "Oh I am, bet those damn Mod creators could feel that last slash on their side of the screens!" The little AI decided it was time for him to move to a happier home, one that would be away from the sad, deranged, little man. Without saying a word and a brief SFX of a door being closed, Tron invaded the sanctuary that was Cid's computer network. The instance that had spurred on the violent outburst from the man was his lack of a Mod Chip with which to download Moded evilness into the Sora Unit...and the hundred too many ads about 'free' things. He sighed and then slumped down onto the floor in front of the scrap metal before him. With a slow motion he raised a hand up into a fist and directed it to the heavens. He opened his mouth as if to curse everything in existence when he heard a shrill "AHHH!" and one of the Gullwings smacking him alongside his face. A disoriented Rikku sat on the floor, her head rolling around as she tried to recover from the impact. He would have cursed the fairy-like girl into oblivion, but then he suddenly had an idea. He seemed to be getting several ideas since he had embarked on his hell-bent mission of vengeance. Once again he smiled his creepy smile. The newly recovered Rikku looked up to see the looming shadow of Leon cast over her. "Ooh Rikku, I have a deal for you!" There was only one thing more terrifying then a crazy Leon, it was a happy Leon. The blonde let out a shrill squeak and shielded her head with her arms. "If you get me a Mod Chip, I'll get you all of Aerith's deserts and snacks!" At the mention of "deserts and snacks" the little treasure hunter settled down. "All of them? Cookies, cakes, creams puffs, e-even her strawberry funnel cake?" She couldn't help but drool at the thought of all the sweets. Leon drew his brows together and nodded gravely at her, "Especially the strawberry funnel cake." With renewed vigor the Gullwing zipped off to find a Mod Chip for the wonderful snack-delivering Leon. Leon laughed to himself, and was once again manically tapping his fingers together in anticipation. He lustfully eyed the Sora Unit still sitting soullessly in the corner of the computer room. Revenge was sweet. --------------------------------------- The same process to activate your Sora Unit is the same method by which you can "deactivate" your Sora Unit. Simply press the button located in the Sora Unit's shoe and recite the activation code. Please note, that in deactivating your Sora Unit you are essentially "killing him", however, if he is reactivated in a period of 24 hours or less, most of his data memory will remain intact. During the time he is inactive, the owner can freely re-set his settings to a more desirable one. Should he be inactive for more than 24 hours, all of his data memory will be erased. --------------------------------------- In a factory far away in the land of Moogles, a blue-collar Moogle had recently came off of its lunch break. With a 'po' it reseated itself in its cushioned and wheeled chair. Using its stubby arms it placed a headset on its head. With a rounded nub, it hit a massive, blinking button on the phone. "SEDFEE Shop Mail-Order Services, how may I help you kupo?" "Yes, kupo, we have several Kingdom Hearts Character Units available. Which one would you like kupopo?" "Kupo, we have that one available!" "Kupopopo, he's quite a heart-throb that Unit type, kupopopo!" "Will you be ordering a KH1 or KH2 model? A KH2? Excellent choice kupo." "Will you be ordering anything else? Will it be express? Oh, I see kupopo!" "Have a Kupo-riffic Extra-Extraordinary day!" The Moogle pressed the button with its nub of a paw and hung up the phone. It wrote down the order form and handed it to a passing collector Moogle. "Kupopopo! Another order from Radiant Garden?" "It's another express order from the same bank account kupo!" "Someone must have a kupo pocket of munny to be getting express three times in the same day kupo!" --------------------------------------- Chapter Three: May Lead to an Off-Topic! --------------------------------------- In other places away from the scheming Leon, specifically back at Cid's shop. Cid himself was currently choking and pounding on his chest to dislodge something caught in his throat. With a loud hack of a cough, flecks of an unknown substance flew through the air and onto the floor. Through a breaking voice he cursed a question at a serene Aerith, "GODDAMMIT WOMAN WHAT WERE IN THOSE COOKIES?" Aerith would visit several of her friends weekly with gifts of various baked goods. She thought of it as a way to hone her culinary skills as well as fulfill the role of the 'good neighbor'. Cid however, saw it more as a chance for a free meal, at least that's what he told the others. Secretly he loved the cookies, but he had the image of a grumpy older man to keep up; but today was different. The official-unofficial 'cook lady' smiled softly at him, "It's made of the best ingredients in all of Radiant Garden Cid. You probably won't listen to me, but you shouldn't smoke when you're trying to eat cookies." She folded her hands in front of her and the tray of oatmeal cookies sitting on the table to signal the conclusion of her statement. He scowled at her as best as he could, "What else is in there?" Unfortunately for Cid, Aerith had a special talent of dissipating people's anger with her overly-sweet and motherly smile, so his "yelling in traffic" volume had been reduced to a "polite student" voice. With another smile, Aerith daintily picked up a cookie and took a bite out of it. She slowly chewed and swallowed it before answering; she was one of the few people who still believed in the folklore of proper manners. "Oh, I almost forgot to mention the most important ingredient of all, Love. It's the magical sweetener that makes everything taste better." She gave a small laugh. Cid grumbled to himself as he lifted a cup of newly poured tea to his lips, "And I thought I was tripping out..." He took a sip of the liquid only to choke and spit it out a second later. He looked accusingly at the still-smiling Aerith. "I make everything with love Cid, including your tea." She motioned to a pink teapot covered in flowery designs that was sitting on the table. With hands shaking and sputtered speech, "You're trying to kill me or something aren't you?" "Silly Cid, love can't kill anyone, that's what cyanide is for!" The flower girl laughed again, Cid couldn't help but shrink away from her with growing fear. "More tea?" She raised the teapot up and tilted it eagerly towards his now empty cup. "Uhhh, been switching to coffee lately. Didn't ya hear about what scientists have discovered about tea? It can give you freaking cancer!" Aerith never was one to ever stop smiling, and it was that part of her that always creeped the hell out of Cid. "Really? This is the first I've heard about it." The pink teapot was still poised in her hands, ready to pour him another cup of her "Love Tea". "Uh yeah...uh, why lookit that! Thecoffeemaker'sbrokengottagofixitlaterAerith!" He ripped the perfectly functioning machine out of the wall and ran back into the garage. The door slammed shut and Aerith was left to herself along with the awkward silence of the room. She remained perfectly still as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, then blinked as if suddenly recalling a memo. "Oh, that reminds me, he still hasn't gotten cookies yet!" She hastily picked up her tray of cookies and began walking towards Cloud's house. -------------------------------------- All KH Character Units come with basic knowledge and to an extent a conscience as well as an idea of self-worth. Much like humans, the KH Character Units still have the basic needs of a human. They require food, water, a place to live, attention and love. They must be treated properly, not as tools; they will react accordingly if abused, regardless of their Mods. -------------------------------------- clack. "Your move." Cloud folded his arms triumphantly at the quadruple jump his checker had just made over his opponent's. It was his opponent's last red, circular soldier backed into a corner against his black army of six. He couldn't help the smug grin creeping onto his face, he rarely won at games such as checkers despite his strategic strengths. Unlike the real battlefield, all the 'soldiers' were created equal on the board. His opponent frowned and looked intensely on the lone red chip on the squares as if he could somehow telepathically give it enough power to destroy Cloud's six pieces. He spared a glance at Cloud. It was bizarre to see the smirking expression given that the blond never really smiled. With an agitated sigh and fingers briefly pressed to his temple he wished he was playing scrabble instead. At least then he could get away with one or three obscure words. Unfortunately, their game never came to an official end as a series of knocks came from Cloud's front door. The non-SOLDIER bolted from his seat and roughly pulled his opponent out of his own. The checkerboard itself was tossed to the side. The opponent wanted to object but Cloud's interjection wouldn't allow the sentence to form, "It's Aerith. I've got to hide you." The opponent let himself be dragged along up the stairs and into the study. He still felt bitter about the whole situation despite how he understood the reasons. Cloud was frantically searching through the room for a suitable place for the opponent to hide. The opponent himself stood by the door and was starting to mull over possible subjects to brood over while he was hiding from Aerith. Cloud finally settled on a location as he pulled open a door and motioned for the opponent to walk in. A disbelieving scoff preceded the deadpan remark. "A closet? You can't be serious Cloud." "Yeah...well, it can't be helped-" He quickly shoved the opponent into the deathtrap of coats and spare boots. "Just stay here and don't make a sound." Cloud started to close the door but stopped as the opponent spoke in an annoyed tone, "Can I at least get something to eat?" The blond sighed and threw the opponent a small package from off a nearby desktop. The opponent eyed the package skeptically. "Uncooked Cinnamon Poptarts?" "It could have always been pocket lint you know." The opponent looked miserably at the measly plastic bag in his hands. "Look, I'll make it up at dinner, alright?" The opponent pouted dejectedly. "Fine." With that Cloud shut the closet door and ran down to the poor, unanswered door Aerith was still knocking on. Cloud hated keeping the Leon Unit a secret from everyone; but it was secret that everyone- especially the real Leon could live without. -------------------------------------- As a safety measure on all of SEDFEE's KH Character Units, an order filter has been created so that KH Units CANNOT order other KH Units. This precaution is in accordance to several codes that correspond to the preservation of a world's peace; the operation was created to prevent ANY antagonistic Units from ordering Companion/Minion Units that may cause repeats of events that occurred in KH1, KH:CoM and KH2. -------------------------------------- In the tallest and newly restored tower of Radiant Garden's castle, the Gullwings leader had called for an ultra-secret-super-important-emergency-meeting. Yuna was float pacing wondering where Rikku was, and Paine was daydreaming from her lonesome corner in the room. The meeting so important! How could Rikku be late for that one meeting out of all the meetings? They had to discuss their plans about their hot new honorary member! Yuna stopped her worried pacing and looked at the freshly-opened box sitting in the room; a seemingly unconscious hooded figure was sitting next to it. The little hunter tapped her foot impatiently in the air and then threw her hands out to her sides. She and Paine were going to program the Axel Unit without Rikku. She told her about the meeting six hours ago and she was late, therefore it was her loss! -------------------------------------- All Hero/Light class KH Character Units are all naturally inclined to play games and cheer up normally depressed/introverted/shy/reclusive individuals. This feature is even incorporated in some of the more 'serious' KH Units such as the Leon Unit (KH1, KH2) and Cloud Unit (KH1, KH2). We at SEDFEE believe that even the more melancholy character Units have the capacity to have expressions other then 'brood' and 'angst'; even if their real counterparts may not openly express it. -------------------------------------- Yuffie had just hung up her nun-chuck-shaped portable phone. She had just finished a rather...important call to a certain shop. She leaned back in her wheelie chair comfortably and slung her feet on top of her desk. Plans were going...swimmingly? She frowned to herself, what exactly did that mean? She knew fish swam...like trout...but those swam upstream...and were viciously eaten by happy grizzly bears...or caught by old fishermen...and then viciously eaten. Sayings from the old days were stupid now that she thought about it- A large cloud of grey alerted her of the arrival of a new visitor. "Hey Yuffieeee! I just told Squally about the Sora Unit, oh if only you were there to see his face!" She regarded her doppelganger cheerfully, her previous thoughts of trout and Cid-aged fisherman forsaken, "No worries Yuffie, I just finished ordering...the package." She flashed Cloud's credit card and grinned impishly. The two Yuffies shared a laugh in their ninja hideout that was located in Aerith's attic. The passing Aerith smiled and regarded the cackling Yuffies with "ah, young girls and childhood". Yuffie was a growing girl after all; she deserved to have a little fun every now and then. -------------------------------------- Additional accessories can be ordered through Moogle-LiveCom or Moogle-Mail, however, you must be able to supply the corresponding Unit's Character ID number if so required. A reason why would be to avoid unnecessary harm that may result from the KH Character Unit using another KH Character Unit's item incorrectly. A good example of this would be the KH1 Riku Unit's (dark version) heart-unlocking keyblade if it were to fall into a clumsy KH1 Sora Unit's hands; the possibilities would all end badly for both the owner and the Unit. However, not all additional orders will require an ID number; such as items like the Thalassa good luck charm (if not a resident of Destiny Islands), blitzball (if not a resident of Destiny Islands), struggle weapon (if not a resident of Twilight Town), etc. -------------------------------------- Aerith had been making the return journey back to her own home. After having the usual few-worded conversations with Cloud, she decided to call it a day from her daily-neighbor visits. She was slightly surprised when she saw a small messenger Moogle trying to futilely press the tiny doorbell on her doorframe with its large nub. That's when she caught sight of the large box sitting next to the distracted Moogle and understood why it was there. With a light tap, she got the little Moogle's attention. "Kupo?" The Moogle looked up at her questionably. "Yes, I'm the one who ordered it." "Kupopopo." It handed her a pad. "So I sign here? Oh, and here? Ok. There you are." "Kuokupo." It took the pad, saluted her and waddled off. "Thanks so much, you have a nice day too!" How anyone ever understood the language of Moggles was a mystery but it was of little importance considering the impressive squeal of happiness Aerith let out over the newly arrived box. Tossing her tray of now-cold cookies to the side she threw the box into her home and slammed the door shut. She let out another anticipating squeal and tenderly ripped open the wooden box. She looked over the Unit in the box and bounced giddily with joy. "Cooking is going to be so much more fun now. Isn't that right my little Riku Unit?" --------------------------------------- TBC!
Doodled thiis on the back of one of my worksheets in econ class; Luxord, Demyx, Zexion, Marluxia, Saix and Axel. aka OrgXIII members 6-11. Sorry for butchering them with my lack of art skills and fugly pencil lines. D8
EDIT NOTE: This takes place roughly over all three games (KH1, KH:CoM, KH2). Main focus is on Namine. Original Description on FF.net: [OneShot, NamineX?] Going from perch to perch but never finding a real home. Look at the baby bird that flutters and falls. Her love is very much the same. The only question is where it will ultimately crash when the bird stops flapping its little wings. First post on this forum. Just a copy paste from what was posted on my FF.net account (under the exact same Pen Name and title). -Felt like giving this contest a try. There are several implications in the story, so if the kids can pick them out, well then they weren't that innocent to begin with. In my opinion its not long at all, but the forum preview says otherwise. There are many vague pairings, a total of seven were intentional- five of them are Namine related. Was written based on the poetic blurb below. First shot at what can hopefully be called a drama/romance. Any reactions or feedback would be most appreciated. Enjoy. -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Blue-Eyed, Hands Tied -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Singing on a windowsill my pretty little bird Looking oh so free and what's the other word? Clear eyes reflect the fullness of your soul Your happy heart is your only console. Sing your final joyful tune and song You will not be free for very long. Sitting on a windowsill my pretty little bird Looking oh so sad and what's the other word? Blue eyes match the tears of your soul Your nonexistent history is black as coal. Flap your clipped and broken wings Your bitter cries are delicate rings. Resting on a windowsill my pretty little bird Looking oh so crushed and what's the other word? Dead eyes represent your painfully dead soul Your enslavement to puppetry is your role. Draw your fake and shattered dreams Your little life will be extinguished it seems. Laying on the windowsill my pretty little bird Looking oh so broken and what's the other word? Empty eyes are the true sign of no soul Your heart is nothing but a gaping hole. Fall little bird into my open waiting arm I promise not to do you any more harm. -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- The cheerful islands were being swallowed up by a great and terrible creature made of the darkest sins and crimes. She ran to the only place she ever considered to be safe. Apparently this place did not hold the same confidence in its security as a blinding miasma tore through her body. The last thing she saw was the open arms and worried eyes of one of her best friends. It would be the last blue she saw for what would feel like an eternity. -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Cold silence. That's all there was where she was curled up so helplessly in that empty place. No. It wasn't empty, she simply could not see what was enveloping her being. She could feel innumerable hands and presences whispering touches against her skin. They sickened her beyond all reason, her stomach welled up with disgusting bile and repulsion that she wanted to rid herself of but could not. All for the same reason that called it in the first place- the horrible revulsion of those prickling touches of hands she could not see. In her mind she screamed for someone to help her, anyone to save her from the terrible violation of her bleak consciousness- A voice carrying the same grimness of aged tombstones called to her. "Child of the Dusks?" She did not understand what the title meant; she held little regard for the connotations. In blind despair she lashed out her pale hands in front of her. For many eons of seconds she only felt the same horrid texture of tainted satin. She choked out a disheartened sob. Suddenly a crushing abrasion snared onto her twig-like arm and wretched her through the emptiness like a foal from its constricting womb. The sound of unmarred skin hitting the floor rang through the air like fresh pounds of flesh being thrown against the butcher's counter. The child coughed heavily into the smooth marble from where she lay. Her eyelids convulsing open and shut in a violent game of tug of war from the merciless wave of new light that assailed her senses. She heard a muffled suction of air escaping from the space behind her. Above her near still form was the murmur of unknown voices from a council she could not turn her face up to see. The refrained melancholy of stone memoriam spoke, "I give you the 'princess of the Dusks'." A new voice that was upbeat but harsh like a swarm of hornets perked up from the silence, "She doesn't look like much, even less then Queen Bugxene- and I do mean less in every aspect." She gave a quiet sob as an unfeeling tip of weathered rubber jabbed the small between her shoulders. The owner of the carefree stinging voice cackled to himself. A new speaker whose tone was held in steadfast reserve quipped at his colleague in a rich voice of earthen rebuke, "Cease your unethical behavior Xigbar. She may appear to be nothing more than a child but she is more valuable then you or me." She found herself comforted by the mysterious voice that defended her. The stinging voice growled at the earthen one's words. In their pause a twining voice complacent with the drawl of old tools accurate and directing questioned the remaining silences, "How do we know if she is the right one? She shows little promise." The agony in her eyes finally elevated enough for her to crack them open and look at the people who surrounded her. They all wore uniform black coats which outlined each of their characteristic forms. A dark skinned man with a dazed look of ember was quietly watching the others from the outermost ring of the group. Next to him was a bony and scarred man with a patch over the only eye she could see, the other eye was hidden by his profile as he was giving a silent challenge to one of the others. That other was the tallest of them and he was a well built man with a severe frown, his small eyes did not falter as they met the other's glare. Standing alongside the mountain of a man was a smaller, but still brawny man with a tangle of dark braids. By him was a petite and fragile looking figure with hair that looked like it was fading the blue color it was where he stood. The last member of the group was a tall, gauntly and elderly looking man with long dirty blond hair. He was the next to speak. She cringed at how much his voice seemed to slither with latent poison and serpentine musings, "Leave that to me Xaldin." He turned his sickly green gaze down to her, venomous smirk curling with each word, "I assure you, anything she cannot tell us, science can do perfectly in her stead." The smallest one gave the owner of the poisonous voice a bored glance. He spoke quietly like a piece of dark glass viewing the night sky, "Don't get too ahead of yourself Vexen, her limits are not to be strained too far." The figure who spoke with quiet night knelt down to her. She tried in vain to move away but found her body unable to respond. He tenderly picked up a lock of dull blonde hair from the side of her face and pressed it between gloved hands. Her gaze wavered from the muddled gold hugged by vivid black up to the pale face and the flicker of light lingering in an orb of deepest blue. "It would be such a waste if such a pretty little thing couldn't remain with us in one piece." The dark glass was the final sound that echoed before darkness engulfed her fledgling vision. -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- The sound of knuckles rapping against thick glass caused her eyes to crack open. She slowly rubbed at the bleariness in her vision, half-expecting the person who woke her to be the one who had placed her in the invisible cage in the first place. A cheerful "Good morning sleeping cutie!" caused her to shove her hand down and snap her awareness to the other person on the opposite plane of the glass. Demyx gave her a broader smile once he saw that he had her attention. She smoothed out her tiny white garment out of habit. Visits from Demyx were all that she had to look forward to between the times she was conscious. She had no idea how many days had passed, but out of all of them, the only days really worth remembering were Demyx's sporadic visits. The young man who visited her was bubbly and usually brought things to her such as stories or snacks he had managed to pilfer from rooms she had never seen. In the past, on rare instances he did not have a story or he was 'inspired' as his babble sessions had often mentioned, he would play an unusual instrument she had never seen before. She knew he was a determined musician and that he put forth painful effort into playing what he once told her was a sitar. What truly saddened her however was that she could not hear any of the tunes he so delightfully took pride in. But she never told him that secret, it would probably break his kind heart. What seemed like many years ago, she recalled him asking her what she thought of his music. She answered as best she could, saying that it was so beautiful and uplifting. She remembered him turning away from her and walking quickly out of the lab that day for what he claimed was an important mission. She never knew what happened to him playing on the guitarlike instrument in the lab but she missed it. Demyx had been babbling about the typicals of his day's mission, only vaguely mentioning the residents and events of the world he visited before taking a deserving breath. In that moment, she noticed the oddly wrapped bundle that was under his folded arm. Demyx noticed her drawn gaze and beamed proudly at her from the other side of the glass. With swift ease he brought up the package encased in sky hued tissue paper and various adornments of gold and silver ribbons. She felt a strange force well up in her chest as she pressed her hands and face against the glass to see the odd bundle better. His blue eyes crinkled in delight at her response. He spoke once more with his familiar voice of warm sea foam and sunny yesterdays, "The world I was talking to you about was having a festival, so I got you something." Demyx's and her expression faltered as the spine of the parcel hit feebly against both edges of the only opening compartment in the invisible shield that was her transparent jail cell. Demyx heaved a sigh and scratched the back of his neck with a hesitant hand. He muttered things to himself and cast another waning glace at her. She gave him the same helpless look that often found its way onto her face each time Vexen walked through the lab doors. He raised up his hand and his trusted sitar appeared in a bubbly torrent of water. Demyx braced the hilt of the instrument against his leg. The wrapped gift was laid onto the floor and both of his gloved hands anxiously hovered over the white strings of his weapon. He flashed her a tired smile, his voice lowering to a pitch of the sun being covered by vengeful rain clouds, "Close your eyes and hold your breath until I say ok." She did as she was told and a biting wave of icy water engulfed her. The chills of drowning shot through her. The feeling of a chaotic tidal wave surged around her and battered her relentlessly. The loud roar of colliding watery forces rang in her ears. She felt a comforting pressure wrap around her and all of it vanished instantly. She felt the presence move away, her knees nearly buckled from her own weight, but she stood her ground. She heard a weak "ok, you can open your eyes" and she did. Straight ahead there was darkness speckled with a thousand glowing lights and the glow of a full moon. She whirled around and saw the silhouette of a great spire-top against the glow of night and a great menagerie of colorful flags and lanterns. "Where-?" She felt a light tap on her shoulder and was met with the tuft of gold and silver ribbons that was held to her by Demyx's lowered hand. "Don't worry about it. Just go on and open it." Inside was a book of heavy and empty pages bound by metal spiral. She gave Demyx a questioning look. He gave her a small but genuine smile in return and waved a thoughtful open hand at her, "It's a sketchbook. You could write in it, buuuut I think you're more of an artist." She looked down at the book, a faint heat rushing to her cheeks. She realized and hugged the book tightly to hide it. She opened her mouth to speak but Demyx pressed a finger to her lips, his other hand wiggled in playful scolding, "Ah ah, don't thank me yet." He removed his hand and waved it to the area below the shadowed edge of the towering building, "I still have to show you the festival!" She moved to peer over the edge but Demyx caught her hand with his. He'd pulled his hood over his head and placed a boot firmly on the short wall of the roofing, "The best view's down there, front row dead center." She gave him a fearful look, he gave her a fearless one, "Don't look like that, it'll all be fine!" She took a loud gulp. Demyx's grin inched larger, "Besides, it's the Festival of Fools, and Vexen says I'm the biggest one, so nothing'll go wrong! I promise!" She relaxed considerably at the promise and smiled meekly. The festival was a grand medley of revelry, music and colors. Time was just a blur of masks, games, gypsies and jesters. Being in the bright lights and confetti caused her happiness to be reborn and her thoughts of cages and endless white rooms became all but a distant afterimage of a nightmare. But that nightmare did not forget about her. A bone breaking vice grip sunk onto her shoulder and she started to let out a yell, but another hand clapped over her open mouth. A shudder of brute strength crushed her and she was slung against a terrible cold floor. She staggered as she tried to get back onto her feet, only managing to flip over just in time to see Demyx being dragged away by a blue haired man with a demonic scar on his face. She stared at Demyx, thunderstruck and in desperation at her only friend. Demyx smiled at her mutely and waved flimsily at her. The blue haired man looked from the subordinate to her, a fierce gleam of malice sparked in his dazed eyes. He smirked crookedly at her and held up an open hand that collapsed into a tight fist. The deafening crack that elicited from strong knuckles striking the back of Demyx's skull was brutally clean. The blond crumbled where he stood and the blue haired tormentor continued to drag the unconscious body along the ground. She cringed down to the floor of her cage. Scalding tears of apology, regret and anger all rolled down her face. She brought her small hands to her face and choked out incoherent nothings. Her sorrows continued to flow out of the corners of her eyes long after her little white dress had been soaked with them. She sobbed until she could no longer think. She heard fast tapping against her window. Earnestly she bolted from where she lay to see if Demyx had come to visit again. A tired face of sickly pale skin and green eyes that had long scoured over the pages of a thousand tomes of knowledge regarded her. She took a shaky gasp of air as she felt her eyes beginning to brim once more with tears of the joy long torn from her grasp. Vexen's mouth pressed into a deep line of a frown. He addressed her in the same, unchanging plague-laden spite he had always spoken to her or any other displeasing test subject with, "Your superficial tears are wasted little girl. Number IX brought about his own punishment and he will pay his price for it." She bit back her sadness. Vexen shifted his attention to his vials and his various charts. She looked around her suffocating cage and nearly lost her control over her bitter tears once more. Vexen didn't spare her a glance as he spoke to her once more, "If you're looking for that new notebook you stole, I'll have you know it is now in Zexion's possession. I have no idea who this 'Namine' is, but she certainly is not you." She shrieked brokenly at him, "I'M NAMINE! DEMYX GAVE ME THAT BOOK! GIVE IT BACK!" Vexen scoffed coldly, "A name and a book, how touching. Even if I retained something of a heart I might, by some slim chance to nothing, have given an iota of a care. But in justification to everything that is wholly scientific, you do not need a name." He briefly paused at seeing a scarlet crystal saturate to a deep magenta in the vial he was holding before continuing, "In fact, you should be grateful I even bothered to ask Saix to bring you back unharmed despite the fact you so direly need some discipline." She sniffed loudly and lay down on the floor so that she faced away from him. Vexen flipped loudly through the pages of a heavily text laden index. A concoction of blue and violet chemicals spilled over. Vexen acidly mused out loud at the sight of it, "Well, it appears we have many more tests to do little Namine." -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- The blunt tip was dragged across the top of the paper in a strong arc of sand tinted wax. That artistic tool was discarded for one suited with the color of green. The shoddy emerald was lightly and rapidly sketched across the wave of brown- "Namine, what are you drawing?" The absinthe tip broke off and skittered fearfully across the smooth white floor. Namine looked up to the owner of the cool voice that reminded her of polished obsidian. Ever since the tests with Vexen had ended, she had been handed off to Lexaeus, who was kind, but never spoke to her. She was kept in his room where she could admire the various busts and sculptures of late philosophers and theorists she had never heard of. There was also a collection of books in his room, but she could never bring herself to read through their alienating pages of people she never knew existed and of worlds that had already succumbed to the tides of destruction. There was one book he owned that she had read through. The book had no title and was relatively thin. It had very few words, and instead had many pictures shoved into its scarce pages. They were hastily laminated photos that seemed to revolve around a small group of people. Most of them were pictures of them smiling or of what appeared to be special occasions. She remembered carrying the book to Lexaeus one night and asking him why Zexion and Ienzo had the same look of feigned disinterest or why he and someone named Elaeus had the same silent smile. Lexaeus had been speechless, but she remembered how much older and debilitated he looked at that time when she had shown him the book. It had been the last night she had spent with Lexaeus before she was forced into Zexion's care. Much like Lexaeus, Zexion kept her locked up in a room. This time it had been in a completely separate room whose original purpose she did not know, but it held no bed or shelves or much other furniture save for a chair and an oval table. She always wondered why there was only one chair for such a large table, but such ponderings did her little good. Zexion had given her back the book Vexen had confiscated from her, as well as a tiny box of crayons and a single pencil. Those enigmas could hold their silent secrets for as long as they wished. As long as she had her book and her colors, it was all that really mattered to her. She was glad Zexion was just as kind as Lexaeus and that he had even let her draw in her book. But she was still in a cage. Only this time, the keeper of the lock referred to her by the name Demyx had tried to give her. Zexion picked up one of the many leaves of paper off of the table she worked at. He gave the half-formed image blotted out by deep gashes of crayon a cursory glance before repeating himself, this time his voice laced more with the crude obsidian then the glass, "What are you drawing?" Namine set down her crayons flat onto her book. She didn't look at Zexion as she replied, for some reason, she felt afraid to, "A sunset on an island." He didn't reply from where he stood as he looked at the ruined image once more. Zexion paced around the snow colored table so that he stood in front of where Namine was seated. He carefully let down the picture and it fluttered back onto the table. He quickly waved his hand behind him and a gnarled chair of black metal appeared. He took his seat wordlessly and he folded his hands in front of him to rest his chin on. With a renewed balance of refined ebony and glass, he asked her a curious question, "Namine, would you do me a favor?" She nodded an affirmation to him. Zexion was kind to her, he had returned the book Demyx had wanted to give to her. That and there was a sort of distant melancholy in his demeanor that felt so familiar and sympathizing. Zexion's stare bore hard into her averted gaze, "I'd like to tell you a story...and I want you to draw a certain picture of it after I am done with it. Alright?" She nodded once more. He took a deep breath and began his tale, "Once upon a time there was an elaborate castle in a great field of grass and crossroads. In this castle was a fair maiden who was kept in the company of a king, a queen and their advisor...as well as an elder council to check the royalty's power. However, what made this castle interesting was that all seven of them were trapped inside it. You see, they were cursed in that if they wandered too far on any of the many levels of the castle, their memories would become altered beyond recognition and they would wander in the labyrinth of the castle for all of eternity. They would be cursed to stay there until one pure of heart and great of strength could free them. But, the curse's warning had come too late. Only the fair maiden still held onto her sense of being, the others had spiraled into a demented hysteria. So, being the fair maiden she was, she managed to trick the king into luring a brave knight to the castle, saying that she wanted to marry a certain prince. The king believed it and sent out many messages to attract a possible knight. Eventually, one did come to this Castle Oblivion. But he did not completely understand that the people of the castle were cursed. So he began to attack with all his might against them, but luckily the fair maiden was able to persuade the knight that they were not truly evil. With that, the knight was able to free them from their curse and...they all lived happily ever after." Namine blinked in confusion at Zexion's very brief story. She tilted up her gaze to see that Zexion had buried his face in his hands and that the small frame of his body was shaking. She reached out a hand to his quivering shoulder, "Zexion, I-" Zexion did not lift his face and his thickened voice came from behind leathered hands that obscured his expression, "Please, you're the only one that can help us." She looked at the little crayon her hand was wrapped around and the sheet beneath it. "I'll do my best- Zexion?" She stared at the empty space where he had been. She shifted back to her sketchpad, content with her own assumption that he probably had been called on a mission. What felt like many days had passed, by the time she had finished the last touches on what could have been considered her masterpiece, practically all of her crayons were near their expiration as utensils for creation. Over the entire course of creating her gift, Zexion had not once visited her. She assumed it may have been a particularly difficult mission, or maybe he had been assigned to do several tasks. Namine futilely rubbed her dirty palms to rid them of the multicolored blotches that stained them. The composition itself was of an expansive field of green that led to a black shadow of what she could best convey as a castle. On the solitary road was the outline of her brave knight. Namine looked away from the heavily colored picture to the ceiling devoid of design. All she could do now was wait for Zexion to come back to see her picture and bring her more crayons. A handful of days passed before Zexion reappeared in the room. This time however, instead of his customary portal vanishing after he entered, it lingered. Namine stared at the undulating waves of oily purple and black. Zexion folded his arms worriedly, voice chiming and crinkling like thin glass, "Did you finish?" She held up the picture for him and he nodded confidently despite how he eyed the portal warily out of the corner of his eye. "Namine, I'm afraid I can no longer be your...guardian." She opened her mouth to protest but his heavy hand on her head quieted her instantly. His voice heightened in timid pitch as he tried to edge out the words he was obligated to say, "But...don't worry, the person who will take care of you next...he's a good person. He'll be better suited to protect you anyway. You'll need someone like him if you want to leave this malevolent place." Namine hugged his waist. He felt the material of his coat beginning to soften with new moisture. Zexion gently rubbed her head and the additional water ceased. He slowly pulled her off and he gave her a faction of a smile, "We should go meet him." She gathered up her only valuables and what remained of her crayon box, Zexion promised that her new guardian would get her a new box. Both went through the chilling gateway and found themselves in a new room with Lexaeus, Vexen and three people she had never seen before. One was deathly skinny but had the brightest spikes of red she'd ever seen, he had a cheerful expression of laughter on his face which was highlighted by two green markings on his face. The girl standing next to him had blonde hair that was styled with what Namine could only seem to identify as bug antenna. The third and tallest of the trio was a smirking man with a wild brush of pinkish hair. Zexion nudged her to the man with pinkish hair, who looked at her with a somewhat surprised expression. Zexion placed a hand on her head and motioned his free hand to the other, "Namine, this is Marluxia, your new guardian." She muttered a quiet hello to him, Zexion continued to the other two, "He is Axel and the other is Larxene, they will be helping Marluxia during your stay in Castle Oblivion." Namine froze. She spun around to question Zexion, and in doing so, Larxene snatched the sketchbook from her hands. The loose sheets of completed drawings scattered about the floor and Namine frantically tried to pick them up. Larxene cackled at her and dug her heels sharply into any sheets that had landed near her. Namine looked desperately up at Zexion, "Zexion, please help me!" Zexion gave her a distasteful look as if she were a particularly insignificant species of pest, "Help you? What for? I obtained what I needed. Now Marluxia just has to retrieve what he desires from you." She pleaded with him and any other cruelty some higher force was treating her with, "I-I thought you wanted to be freed from your curse!" He rolled his visible eye, "You believed that drivel?" a curt laugh accompanied the mocking question. Zexion glared at her, all amusement lost, he drawled out each syllable to better enunciate her folly, "Naïve child. That was nothing more than a shallow farce. In simpler words, a lie." She stared at him as he turned on his heel to walk to his colleagues' side. She felt a dark weight on her shoulders that hoisted her roughly up. Namine felt her face being cupped by a strong hand that turned her eyes up to its owner's face. Marluxia leaned forward as he whispered into her ear. She could feel his preying grin even though she could not see it, "So glad you could join us princess." -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Drawing endless lines. Drawing endless pictures. Drawing on endless sheets of paper with an endless supply of color pencils. All for the purpose of her brave knight who had still not appeared. And each day that passed without his arrival, Larxene would pay a visit to her that she felt would never end. All Namine could do was sit in her chair and hope that the ordeal would be as brief as possible- or that Marluxia or Axel would come back. Both were malicious in their own way, but Marluxia's was more passive and therefore the lesser of the two evils. That much she had learned during her stay in the barren rooms of Castle Oblivion. Axel was there was well, but he had kept to himself and was rarely in the same room as her. The rare times she had see him, it was only out of the corner of her eyes, and then he would be gone again. Those scarce instances had ended after the single brief moment where the red head had actually spoken with her. "I'm sorry that I can't save you too." Namine never understood what he meant, or why he had said those specific words in a way that only drifting ashes could describe. Whatever hidden meaning it meant however, Larxene had managed to catch wind of. After that, Marluxia seemed to make sure that Axel would constantly have some mission or task to occupy his time. She wasn't as sad as the previous times she'd lost her only means of solace. Morbidly, she had come to expect it. What had been her more unpleasant surprise was when Marluxia would be drawn away from Namine for other pressing matters she could not fathom. It was during those times that hope seemed the bleakest. "Surprise little Namine." There was an almost ritual feel to what Larxene did when she and her were all alone. Today would be no different. Her utterances were like ringing blades bearing into each other. It was an abrasive taunt that was always accompanied by the steady beat and scrape of hard heels against a pristine floor, "So how is our little witch progressing hmm?" She heard the tip of treacherous rubber briefly trace the surface of the floor as it was planted in front of the other. Larxene always paced around the same unmarked area of where Namine sat, almost as if there was an implied barrier. Namine forced herself to maintain her shaky gaze onto her sketches, she did not want to peer up to see what was already so systematic for Larxene- The same expression of smugness where every dark gamble and secret seemed to have been poured into a single crescent. It was all just another component of Larxene's sadistic custom. She felt thin leather digits slide over her bare shoulder. Namine flinched against the sudden cold, Larxene had never stepped over the unmarked boundary before. She had little time to think or suppress new fear as she heard a hiss against her ear. "Better hurry up and call your pathetic knight in shining armor if you don't want to be killed like the witch you are." She heard the unforgiving crackling of torment and clamped her eyes shut at the sound of it. A shallow cackle rose to her ears only to be interrupted by the nostalgic calm of suffocating thorns and barely restrained animosity. "Larxene, our guest has arrived in this world, why don't you leave him a trail of breadcrumbs to help him on his way to the castle?" Larxene scoffed, but did as she was told. The sound of her departure let Namine somewhat relax from her tensed state. Her comfort was to be short lived. Marluxia treaded lazy steps until he towered over Namine's small form. He placed a hand over the edge of her bone stained chair and began to converse to her in a tone befitting crowns laced with toxins, "To help make things a touch easier for you to understand, I'm going to let you in on a little secret." She felt the chair move as he gestured with his free hand, "It's about a feeble thing called a heart, I don't have one, Larxene doesn't have one...and supposedly neither do you. See, without a heart, we don't really have emotions, so we can't feel a damn thing." She heard the leather of his coat hiss as he placed both of his hands back onto the top of her chair, "Irritation, despair or any sort of real pleasure really..." He took a deep breath and exchanged it for a gratifying chuckle, "I should know from what's been done to Larxene." She felt him gingerly pull back some of the loose strands of her hair behind her ear, "But, with you, it's a bit different. When I'm around you, I think I can taste a hint of what emotion is." Her hair fell back, but she bolted out of the chair. Namine clenched her hands protectively around her skinny arms. Marluxia wasted no time closing the new distance between him and her. She stood petrified in place as he bemusedly observed her apparent fear, "My curiosity is this, what if it was a little more then just...simply being around you?" She felt a rigid hand behind her neck. Murky blue eyes lurched forward at her and consumed her will. She felt the air in her lungs being instantly crushed out of them by an intensity so harsh she couldn't take another breath of air. She feebly struggled, but the black that enveloped her was of a far greater strength then her flickering own. Marluxia released her and she crashed to the floor, wheezing for air and gasping for recovery from where she limply laid. Strangling death rang through the air with satisfaction and warning, "Keep that in mind while you're toying with his memories- Either figure out how to enslave the keybearer or you'll be the one to serve in place of my heart." Namine heard the tear of space that Marluxia created to travel wherever he was heading. She heard the start of his heavy steps and how they paused at what she assumed was the very brink of the portal. An even dirge of nightshade met her ears, "Don't disappoint me Namine, death isn't the only punishment for failure." -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Namine opened her eyes and lifted her head from where she had fallen asleep at the tiny table. She turned up her gaze to where her knight slept. She gave him a sweet greeting that he could not have heard through the petals of thick glass, and even if it had, he was peacefully locked in deep slumber. He was the keybearer, or at least, he was for the most part. Her knight's name was Sora. She had met him so long ago when she was trapped in Castle Oblivion by Marluxia and Larxene. She had both Axel and Sora to thank. Axel who had temporarily freed her from Marluxia's power, and Sora for vanquishing Marluxia. Never before was she so elated to be around someone who had cared for her with such a bright smile that made her previous sorrows wither away, or eyes so filled with the clarity of a true hero. She watched him with a half-formed smile of gratitude and guilt. Namine had done terrible things to his memory and tried to replace the one person he had truly cared about. She too was only half of someone, that someone was Kairi. She was only the shadow of a girl she never knew she had been a part of and had never met. But, some part of her helpless soul knew that she was indeed, something not meant to exist. Namine laced her fingers around a pencil she knew all too well, cradled in her lap was a notebook that she would never forget. She had wrongfully manipulated Sora's memories and now was the time to set them right again. In doing so her valiant knight would never remember her, but, she was obligated to do that one task for Sora. Having completed another sketch, she tore the page out and it fluttered up to the crystal flower Sora dreamt in emptily. She and Sora, they were both only half a person, but only one of them was real. She was no more real then Roxas. Roxas was Sora's other, a false self of a half. She hadn't seen much of him, but he was no knight like Sora was. A rich voice marred by static echoed throughout the room, "Your progress is nearly done, you must leave that room or the memory chains will break again." Namine nodded to the voice that was toned as a command rather than a suggestion. She slowly got to her feet, in one hand was the image of Sora's last old memory, in the other was her sketchbook of all the memories she wanted to have had with Sora. Namine let go of the remaining piece of true memory. The page flew away from her and absorbed itself into the pod. The air shook violently and Riku quickly yanked her out of the room and deposited her in the familiar void that was the corridors of darkness. She was left to herself in the paradox of well-lit halls that were a pulsating testament to the abyss. Namine glared ruefully at the sketchbook in her hands. Her hand twitched over the picture of a sunset of an island she could only dream to see. She ripped all of the pages apart without another moment of hesitation. It was all for Sora and it would all be over. -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Warm wind whipped about her face. The smell of salt and citric tropics mingled in the air as the pleasant scent of a home she had at long last returned to. No more Heartless, no more Nobodies, only peace. She stared at the bobbing waves expectantly, and called out to the two friends that had recently hurdled into the ocean. Sora huffed tiredly as he dragged himself out of the water and gave her a grin twined with a happy laugh. "We're back." She found her hand already being held out to him from the blissful warmth that blossomed from her entire soul. Kairi gladly embraced the fluttering emotion and smiled back at him. "You're home."
