Three Sides to a Coin {Senbiyu, Kitsune, Hito and Sweet Simplicity}

[P.]

OoC-

This is the revamp of Shattering and Mending Worlds, hopefully easier to reply to. No posting order, so have at it, folks!

BiC-

There was no light left in this land. The demise of this world had come; no longer did there linger a hint of sorrow or despair, laughter or happiness. The realms had been sucked dry by airborne plagues and spirits of the ethereal lands. Ghosts had come, and they had left. In their wake there were only the dead trees and scorched rock. Viscous flows of darkness had permeated the skies, and soon all was dark. People had lit lanterns, but the darkness doused such things that would hinder the entombment of the land.

The darkness had then spread, and nothing could halt its progress, even for a moment. And if that moment were to come, it would be the saviour of the light, and would be rejoiced. Such a time had ceased to occur and thus the world was rendered helpless by the onslaught of the gloom.

Water had been arrested, life had been taken, and hope had been wrestled from the hearts of those who would seek to prevent the doom. Some embraced the darkness, as it was the only vestige left for solace. But eventually they had succumbed to their deaths, too.

Some had asked for their lives to be fed to the darkness. Those were the ones that had lived longest.

Now there was naught but the winds that tormented the trees, twisting them into new shapes. The darkness had brought about the end of its own sentience, driven itself mad. And the sun would not shine for some time. The Gods knew of those that were to quench the land’s thirst, breathe life back into the soil, return the light to where it belonged. The light no longer knew what to do, where to go, or where it was meant to be.

All hope had been abandoned, and the floodgates of pestilence had been opened. And the darkness fed on the disease too. The darkness had driven mad everything that moved and breathed, all except the light. But even the light had forgotten the meaning of salvation. Darkness was all that there was in what was once a magnificent land of plenty that provided for all; now it was an asylum for all things mad, the cushioned walls of which had been punctured and beaten flat. Everything was insane, nothing left untouched by malice. And the malice had died, too. As had all thought and reason.

“Driven insane by its own sanity,” Timaeus chuckled. The Darkness stirred about him, diluting slowly. The glow of his wings was lessened, but they shone enough for him to be able to see vaguely the ground beneath his feet: parched earth, stained black.

And he felt the Darkness stir elsewhere, and he sensed the others. He knew not who they were, but he knew that he would get to know them very well.

[Euphoria]

Bleak desolation. It was certainly a new sight for Winona to behold. The little girl let out a grim chuckle and sat down on the cracked earth. Cassidy was beside her, murmuring his disjointed thoughts. “It would seem that not all land is bountiful,” Winona stated. The cat looked away, bemused by Winona’s state of mind.

“How can you even say that?”he protested. This wasteland, this…hell used to be overflowing with life. And now it is nothing. You should be mourning.” The cat walked off in disgust, quickly disappearing into the impenetrable haze.

“He’ll come back.” Now that she was alone, any hint of Winona’s cheerfulness had disappeared; sucked up by the very ground she sat on. She realized that it was a horrid place: not just devoid of joy, but of all emotion. Every second she sat was another stroke of apathy beating into her heart. There was only one plant visible, a miserable tree that had cracked and ripped until it was barely discernible from the malevolent Darkness that encompassed it. The leaves that still clung to life were brown and misshapen, also wrinkling into shrivelled corpses. She looked away, not able to gaze upon the sorry sight any longer.

A deep longing for Cassidy awakened within her. How long had he been gone? Two hours? She had no strength left for despair or fear; she just wanted her cat back. Standing up, she stared longingly at the sky; wishing to see that crystal blue glint and the chattering birds again. A hope in vain, as she predicted. The Darkness engulfed all, leaving no room for the skies. She wanted more than anything to leave the wasteland and never come back, but she couldn’t do that. The polluted sky, the dying trees, they had to avenged. No creature would ever get away with terrorising a place to such an extent. Winona would rain righteous fire down on their soul.

****

Cassidy hated being alone. As nothing more than an extension of Winona the separation coupled with the soul-destroying gloom was enough to make him give up completely. But he had similar ideas to Winona, albeit slightly more wholesome ones. The despair and the desolation had to be dispelled at all costs, lest it spread even further, extinguishing all light. But how? Cassidy couldn’t possibly see violence as the answer. And Winona wasn’t capable of thinking it out on her own. She needed help. But how could he – or anyone else - possibly reach her? Even the marvels of telepathy offered little assistance. He was left to fend for himself in a barren and parasitic world. He just hoped Winona wasn’t doing anything stupid.

The darkness seemed to be weighing down on the little cat as he tread. The ground was hot and jagged, but he strived to ignore the pain, already aggravated by the foggy sludge around him. Winona could be anywhere around here,he thought. She truly is a needle in a haystack. Cassidy trudged onwards before interrupted by a shrill squeal of excitement.

“Cassidy? Are you near?” The girl didn’t even try to conceal her nerves. “I’m going to cast a burst of fire; it’d be good if you could do the same.” Cassidy sent a quick answer and set about making a flare. His magic wasn’t nearly as powerful as Winona’s but he would manage. Their minds counted down in unison, both focusing on the magic while focusing on the slightest glimpse of flame. The second came for Cassidy to release his spell and he did so with relief. The orange ball ascended a few metres into the sky before diffusing, invisible, into the Darkness. Cassidy had just about seen a twinkle of flame from Winona. It was only a few metres away, ironically. He burst into a full run until colliding into the apathetic form of Winona.

“What happened to you?” he asked half-cynically.

“This place is just sucking the life out of me.”

“Exactly why we have to fix it.” Winona’s dull eyes suddenly twinkled with recognition.

“But we’ll need help. And we’re just a needle in a haystack.”

“Correction.” Cassidy smiled his wily feline smile. “We’re two needles in a haystack.”

[HitokiriChibi]

Darkness, an encompassing shadow that smothered the realm, diminishing what light or hope had existed beneath its grasp. All around was emptiness – whatever objects the eye could see were just that, things that had lost all life and meaning reduced to mere shells of their former selves.

It was against this bleak backdrop that a lone figure sat upon a pile of rubble that had once been a home. Ice blue hair gleamed dully as it flew upon a hot gust of air, air that was hot and devoid of the sweet freshness it should have carried. The face, usually so animated with life and cheerfulness, was solemn and worried as it gazed at its new surroundings.

“Ara… To think that even in their dreams they have no hope…” Joker whispered sadly as he stood, dusting his pants off.

The dream in which he stood was parallel to the world he had found himself within, a world of no hope. In a bid to see if anything in this realm was worth helping, he had gone to the dream realm and accumulated a mass of Dreamers from his current locale. Putting them all into the same dream, Joker had been disappointed that nothing had occurred. If anything, all their bleak memories had compounded to make the landscape harsher than the one they lived in. None had any hope of bettering their lives, of trying to rise above the current calamity.

Turning, about to leave the dream, Joker couldn’t help but look at the dark roiling sky and banish it, replacing it with a gentle sun with no heat in its rays, a beacon of light that didn’t burn as a rainbow arced like a path to the light.

“Even if Joker cannot help them… perhaps remembering what hope was will ease their minds in sleep.”

~~~

Joker strode through yet more ruins, this time in the corporeal realm, looking around and wondering what had caused the world to fall into such disrepair. Strolling through dreams hadn’t revealed the start of this decay, it was as if the dreamers all mentally blocked out what they had done to cause such a holocaust to their own land. Or that it had been going on for so long that no one recalled the event that triggered their own destruction.

For that matter, Joker hadn’t even stumbled across another living form. In the Dream Realm, everyone had been together regardless of the distance of their physical bodies. Here, it was like no one existed, like the dreams were just their spirits clinging to the only life they knew, even as their bodies had died away.

“Joker doesn’t like this place…” His voice was soft, but it carried over into the small portal he had created, a link to the one person in the world he cared about. As it had been since the start of his journey across realms, silence greeted him on the other side.

Determination steeled across his face. He would find a way to save this place, or at least help those within the bleak world. Perhaps if he did, if he could help people and learn more about his own unique abilities he would be able to save the one soul that was important to him.

With that in mind, he settled himself on top of a mostly intact roof, his two daggers released from their sheaths and floating around his body.

“If any approach Joker within striking distance, and they have sinister intent, transport them to the holding realm Joker created. If they are curious but get too close, bar their way. If they then attack, again transport them to the holding realm,” by the time anything got close to him he would awaken anyway and be able to change his orders as he saw fit.

On those orders, Joker laid back, arms pillowing his head as he stared up at the roiling sky and drifted off to sleep. Around his body, the two daggers circled, bright blades gleaming in the darkness like a beacon of hope against the shadows.

Like the hope Joker guarded within his heart that he would succeed in his mission, no matter the costs.

[Kitsuné]

“Citizens of Kryllea!” A voice echoed out in the market streets, pulling heads towards the source.

Pausing, the male speaker smiled to acknowledge his attention. “Do you feel like you could be earning big money? Do you feel like you’ve got the talent to be a top athlete? Do you feel like the community has no way of recognising the people like you?” As more people gathered, his smile spread to a grin—especially as some mercenary-type people thrusted through the crowd.

“What’re you ta’kin ‘bout?” the crowd voiced in unison; a collage of accents like no other.

“Behold; the Kryllea Coliseum!” the man raised his hands in the air, waving flyers about, before handing them to all in sight.

As he finished passing them out, he restarted his speech, “Ten-grand per battle! All you have to do is win the duel, and kill your opponent… and you’ve got yourself ten-grand!” Enthusiasm radiated from him, and seemed to mirror off all as they received their leaflets.

“So… where do we sign up?” The speaker stepped forward, dressed in distinct crimson clothes, juggling a chain nunchaku—something almost unique in Ciélaro.

“Whoa…” His eyes flickering from the reddened fighter’s clothes to his weapon, the speaker replied, bemused—almost absent-mindedly. “’Eh, if you’re at the town hall tonight—it’s being converted into an amphitheatre for the occasion.”

“I’ll be there,” he replied confidently.

~~Later that Night~~

“Your first bout in the new Kryllea Coliseum will now begin!” The crowd rustled as the ring announcer’s words bounced around the arena. “The match-up is as follows:”

Heishuro’s ears pricked up as he realised his name was about to be called. Juggling Xuriken, he jogged out of his holding area to the sound of, “Heishuro Maruchi; the Scarlet Soldier!”

Scarlet…? He glanced down at his crimson clothes, Whatever… it’s kind of catchy, though. As the door opened, the stadium opened up in front of him, awe-inspiring; leaving the fighter struck.

Tens, maybe hundreds of thousands were in attendance—it seemed like the whole of Kryllea had some to witness this spectacle. Rows and columns of seats folded down around the layered arena; a rainbow of colours blending down. Running his eyes down until he reached the circular combat-area. The ground there was a metallic silver—though surprisingly dull. Maruchi suspected it was government-metal, so he remained wary as he turned to face his up-coming adversary.

“It will be Heishuro… Vs…” the announcer paused, the entire coliseum holding its breath. “Avani Kameai, of the Nonpareil!”

Maruchi’s heart plummeted in his stomach, all emotion alongside it. He was going to be fighting a government elite… the same government that wanted him and his sister dead…

Whereas his applause had been rather forced and unenthusiastic—the arena erupted into life as the Nonpareil-lady’s name had been called; they were widely seen as protectors, as opposed to murderers.

“Hello, Heishuro,” she greeted him with a sadistic smile. “I’m afraid you’ll not get your reward; for you’ve been a thorn in the side of the Raphiel since day one—a thorn that I’m about to dispose of.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to go easy on a ***** like you?” the elementalist spat as he began to hop from side to side, ready to defend himself in any instance.

In a blink, all light was sucked from the arena—courtesy of Avani’s shadow mastery, as Maruchi swiftly realised, and blazed the arena in firelight quickly enough to avoid the array of knives that Avani had slung at him.

Biting his lip, the reddened warrior jumped through the air before she recuperated from the light change, a flash of lightning tearing through the air along with his weapon. The lightning rattled against the woman’s flesh, tearing a small chunk out of it—to her irritation.

Laughing, she slipped two large Kris from her thigh, and crossed them at a point in front of her, almost beckoning him to attack her. To his later despair, he complied—kicking into the blades and… falling right through them; dropping into a void of darkness; diving into her fallacy—a daemon portal.

A lebensraum of shadow; universes layered beyond one another into a visible darkness—crystal clear in vision, yet nebulous in emotion; emotion that had all but fled. Aphotic matter was omnipresent—though Heishuro could sense a presence. It was a unique feeling—but far from a comforting one.

“Hey!” he roared in a commanding tone, a complete contrast to how he felt. “Show yourself, or else!”

[P.]

OoC: Sadly, Senbiyu is unable to battle at the moment, so we shall have to do without him for an undefined time.

BiC:

Clouds of dust jumped up from the sods that Timaeus’ swinging feet created. The un-light illuminated them. He walked beneath the canopy of a twisted tree. Its fingertips were claws, and they raked the earth beneath. Scattered blades of grass punctured the dust.

Reaching the wall of a building, Timaeus halted his movement. He was cautious of the broken foundations that broke the ground as he circumnavigated the ruin. He came into an opening floored similarly to the rest of the darkness: with dust.

On all sides, ruined buildings lay. They were sprawled across the ground, petrified arms reaching outwards. Grit lined the edges and vertexes of the crumbling stone. Here, the darkness was thick and absorbing; it sluiced through Timaeus’ legs. He found it harder to see, and found that the shadows seemed to smother even the light that his wings gave off.

The Angel made his way through the clearing and through one of the many crumbling doors. The building, seemingly a church, was filled with pews. At the far end there was an altar of dark, wrought iron with the figurehead of an eagle, across whose shoulders a violet cloth sat. It was embroidered with gold thread that traced intricate, Celtic patterns – not dissimilar to the ones Timaeus sported – across the rich mauve cloth.

Timaeus’ footsteps echoed through the empty building. Even for this place, it was too quiet. The silence seemed to permeate reality, if that was what the darkness could be called.

“Hello?” Timaeus got no reply, so continued to inspect the area. The seats, he noticed, were covered in dust, that was to be expected. However, what stood out to Timaeus was the marks in the dust where people had been sitting. They were perfect, as if people had only just left the place, been here recently.

The Searcher walked forward, down the aisle that punctured the middle of the pews. He walked up the three steps before the altar, which he proceeded to look over. On the altar sat a bible, which he picked up and flicked through. Every page was crammed full of words, which he knew to be the teachings of the Christian God. After the pages had come to rest, he flicked through the book again, this time from back to front. Again, the same listless, religious words popped up on the pages.

Not wishing to waste any more time fumbling through shadowy churches, Timaeus grabbed a candle and candleholder and left the building, pulling the doors shut behind him. The candleholder was decorated extravagantly with amethysts and rubies that shone in the candlelight after he had lit it. The darkness seemed to glow in the light, like an ebon miasma. Timaeus stared at the darkness for a while, establishing that it actually was a thing, not a lack thereof. Abruptly, with no wind at all, the candle dwindled and was extinguished by the darkness. When he lit it again, it continued the process. Third time around, however, it would not light.

Because the candle was no longer there.