Our story starts out as the stars begin to act strange once again. Instead of disappearing, however, they realign themselves. Forming a straight line of planets between Disney Castle and The World That Never Was, with the Heartless infested Twilight Town in the exact center. It starts off short, with only five planets being drawn into the line. Astrologists however, believe that this might change soon, so it is up to you to decide.

Will you try to find out more of what is happening, and unlock the mysteries of the shifting universe?

Or will you travel the line and strike the final blow onto your enemy, finally ridding their influence from the galaxy?

The choice is yours to take.

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The commandments :

1 : Thou shalt not godmod, for godmodding is of the devil and shall doom your character forever!

2 : Thou shalt not auto evade or hit, for no character, no matter how strong or fast, can act without knowledge of the Dungeon Master!

3 : Thou shalt not make stuff up, because skills have yet to be implemented and items can only be created by the Dungeon Master!

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Sheet :

Name:

Race: Nobody or Human.

Age:

Weapon of Choice: Your weapon of choice. No one may start with Keyblades, a sidequest has to be done, starting from your HQ, before you can take up that kind of weapon.

Appearance:

Background: THIS IS *REQUIRED*. If you do not care to include this, don't post a bio at all, as it will be rejected.

Class: (check the info topic)

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The universe : Currently, the universe exists out of five worlds,

The World That Never Was --- Elibe --- Twilight Town --- Hollow Bastion --- Disney Castle

White are worlds controlled by the Nobodies, Red are the Heartless and Blue are the Keyblade Wielders.

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Beginning posts : These allow you to jump right into the RP instead of waiting for the DM!
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The post for Keyblade Wielders to begin with :

"I congratulate each and every one of you." The man said slowly, pushing his glasses up as he stood on the small podium, overlooking the small crowd of people. "Each and every one of you has proven their skill with magic, weapon and gummi ship." He stated, tapping a single, booted foot on the white ceramic floor. "You are the first batch of Keyblade Wielders to graduate from the academy." He had a knack for stating the obvious. "As such, you have many expactations to live up to." The man continued, holding out a small badge shaped like a keyblade. "These badges identify you to both our allies and enemies, keep them on your person and visible at all times."

"You will be expected to fight any enemy of the Kingdom, and you will do so without hesitation, no matter if they are Heartless, Nobody or Human." It was starting to sound like he was reciting the code of conduct. "We are at war, and you are the future generals. The créme de la créme. We have assignments waiting for you as soon as we are done here, or you may go off exploring on your own." The man continued, pointing towards the many tables filled with swords, daggers, axes and wands. "Pick one weapon, then you may leave, or speak to my associates in order to either help with the war, or go off on other duties." He finished, hopping off the platform. "You are the elite of the Kingdom, hand picked by the King himself! Do not let him down!"
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The post for Nobodies to begin with :

Trim, the General, paced the floor, looking up occasionally. He wore a tired expression on his face, practically begging for a night's sleep. The bags under his eyes were warning enough not to stray from line, lest the offender care not for his own life. Finally, he spoke.

"Yesterday, you were mere humans. But today, you are gods." He traced a horizontal line in the air with his right index finger. "All of you have been trained to combat the forces that wish to halt our progress. Progress that my masters have worked dearly for and fought brutally to accomplish. They seek to fill the void that we occupy with prophetic nuances and drivel about pureness of heart. They want to guide their young compatriots down the path of light and show them the way." He sneered. "How about we misguide them, then? There won't be any room for light once Nothing has ousted their rule. To arms, men!"

The troops jeered and ran straight for the armory in a disorderly fashion. Each table had a certain weapon designed for a specific purpose: The sword, the axe, the dagger, and the wand.
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Note, the decision of which weapon to pick is quite important. Axe gives +1 STR, Wand gives +1 INT, sword gives +1 VIT and dagger gives +1 AGI.
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The RP will commence in 24 hours. However, feel free to post up your bio and first post at any time.
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Accepted bios.
_
Name: Kevin E. Post

Race: Human.

Age: 19

Weapon of Choice: Dagger

Appearance: Kevin's hair is naturally long and dark black, bothering his vision at times. He wears a long black robe trimmed with dark blue/ purple over a dark blue long sleeved shirt and long shorts of the same color, which are seen only when he takes his robe off to fight for long periods of time. Green is the color of his eyes, and his skin is light. His shoes are dark brown, but are not visable when Kevin's robe is worn. He's very light and short, positively contributing to his agility. He wears gloves on his hands, which are ripped and torn, showing skin here and there. His dagger is always carried in his right hand, never his left.

Background: There's not much difference from Kevin's present and his past. Training nonstop, getting ready for war, anything like that. Since he was small, he'd been trained to fight, and spy. At first, he wanted nothing to do this war, and wanted to leave it all to everyone else. That was until his only aunt, uncle and cousins were murdered. Usually, death'll effect someone negatively, but that wasn't the case here. He WANTED to go to war now. He HAD to. All that training, led him here. He'd finally managed it. He was going to fight.

Level: 1

Class: Spy
HP 112/112
MP 28/28
STR 5
AGI 11
INT 4
VIT 112,551
LUK 0
_
Name: Amexa

Race: Nobody

Age: Previously 23

Weapon of Choice: Dagger

Appearance: Amexa wears a thin set of flexible, light-violet robes underneath a large black shroud outlined in gold. The shroud goes all the way to her neck, and spreads off to her shins, though there is a triangular opening starting from the thighs in front. The shroud folds on her neck, allowing her to form a hood if needed, which goes to the top of her forehead, as well as revealing the mark of Nobodies in a contrasting silver outlined in gold to complement the shroud. As well as the hood, the majority of the shroud has a larger mark around it, though it is not filled, and is just a golden outline. It stretches to her neck, and to the back of it, where the top point of the cross goes down to her back, the left and right points go through her arms to her wrists, and the bottom part goes to the middle of her legs, the upwards curve in the middle-bottom of the symbol is missing, since the shroud bends off.
Her hands are rather delicate-looking, with thin and white fingers, the fingernails are colored deep, dark-purple, and reach 3/4 of an inch. However, her feet barely resemble human, they look like vertical dark purple hooks, if seen from the side, they look like a jagged knife. These feet actually allow her to move very fast, and kicks make her melee attacks fatal, as well as letting her jump much higher than humans. Her legs are covered, but it can be assumed that at some point, the human features degrade to that of a typical Nobody from top to bottom. The hair she has is long and seem to be almost gelled in a specific fashion, as well has having a brilliant silver with a noticeable blue tint. The back of her head has a loose twisted hairbun with a low ponytail done in a messy way, complementing her sideburns, which separate into around four messy strands if she tilts her head down, the front of her hair is frazzled, and covers most of her forehead. Amexa's eyes are bi-chromatic, her left one being a milky gray from an accident when she was young (Though she can still see out of it), and the right one being the color she had for the longest time, an unusually brilliant yellow. The eye color of her birth was blue, which can be seen reflecting off the yellow if seen from a very close distance, her yellow eye color was from a disease which should've killed her after a few years before she became heartless, but it doesn't affect her Nobody form.
She holds her current weapon, a dagger, backwards if using it for melee attacks, but if casting spells, she will swing it like a wand.

Background: Amexa's past life was a spiraling depression, her husband had left her to be a widow, whom she mourned for every day since his death. Even though the strongest Nobodies couldn't feel emotions, she felt a shiver whenever Amexa reminisced about it. She has proven herself to the Nobodies by demonstrating magic in an above-par level, which was needed since several Nobodies practiced brawn, either in the present or their past lives. Amexa actually has no will, or real reason to participate in the struggle, but being overtaken by Keyblade wielders was a threatening thought. She actually was enjoying (To the extent Nobodies can) her current life, emotions could not overtake her, she did not feel the urge to mourn for her husband, and if the struggle is won for them, it'd be bliss. The reason for her position as a mage is the secret practice she went through, though long forgotten when she was widowed, the skills that were learned had suddenly come back to her, as a Nobody, she could shuffle through her unconscious memories much further into the past with ease.

Level: 1

Class: Incarnate
HP 109/109
MP 52/52
STR 0
AGI 4
INT 16
VIT 109,273
LUK 1
_
Name: Niniva Aerovine

Race: "Nobody."

Age: 25

Weapon: Dagger, held underhanded.

Level: 1

Class: Assassin
HP : 115/115
MP: 24/24
STR 7
AGI 9
INT 2
VIT 115,928
LUK 1

Appearance: Her skin is the color of sand, faintly tanned and with a smooth texture. Her wavy forest green hair flowing down to the middle of her neck and hanging over the right side of her face. Her eyes hazel, laden with a constant gentleness within her desolate expression. Standing only about 5'6. her frame rather lean around the waist, bust of an approximate C size. No particular feature stands out as being anything other than human. What of her flesh is exposed reveals that her muscles seem toned and slim, strong enough to propel acrobatic maneuvers, however seeming too slender to consider physically powerful. Upon her body she wore a gloomy sleeveless black blouse, bearing a violet indentation resembling an inverted diamond, settled upon the stomach region. matching arm sleeves covering her upper arms, made of an almost translucent silk; fastened securely from just below her shoulders down to over her elbows, where the material starts to widen and hang from off of her. Her hands clad with a peculiar set of pelt gloves, they did not extend over to her fingers except for her fore and ring fingers, creating a V across her hands; Thin iron rings engraved into the material just over her palms. Black taut shorts clipped to matching thigh high leather leggings; the leggings themselves stretch right on down into her boots, however cut-out large eccentric designs expose much of the sides of her legs, revealing the flesh underneath. Her heeled boots corresponding to the rest of her attire, studded leather decorating around the heels and ankles. Two belts wrapped tightly around her waist, crisscrossing one another. Across their thin dark surface is embedded runic symbols bearing a deep red hue. She was given the traditional Nobody robe upon recruitment, and so wears it over her normal clothing when not in combat.


Background:(Original Bio Found here viewtopic.php?f=23&t=693 )
Only A few months had gone by since the "Ascension of the Damned" (Climax of Nini's Original Storyline), and Niniva had fallen into the flow of normal society within the gates of Tarvin, out of the wayward public eye. Keeping herself in a constant reverted state; Having sweared off the viciousness of her true form.

The mark of black smog upon her mid-back, extended over to her stomach area; the lone reminder of what had occurred. The battles, persecution, blood, tears and conflict.

It was only when the mark wasn't ignorable; The occasional throbbing pain or the passing glance in a mirror when it wasn't covered, That the facade of her humanity in her own mind, wasted away like powder in a breeze. Otherwise, she lived quite comfortably in her falsity. Working at some shoddy inn bordering the Lower Class Slums.

Though the past cannot be Ignored so easily.


The violet colored moon was full in the night skies over the -mostly- silent city, the sounds of the night; Howls of wolves, chirping of crickets, and echoing noises of drunk tavern dwellers, never let the air ring with perfect stillness. Niniva was on her way through the cobblestone streets , when out in front of her a robed man emerged from a desolate alleyway. Quick to believe him a solicitor or common street thug, she'd sidestep and walk passed him, brushing across his shoulder in a shunning display. Just as she would take a few steps past, he turned around halfway. "Niniva was it?.. I would like a word with you, we believe you have.. potential" She stopped in her tracks. had she been found out? turning her head to his direction. "How is it you know my name?, What do you want with me?" She said with a mild layer of anger, disguising the underlying feeling of dread. "I mean you no harm, only a proposition. . We have need of your services" the man said in a formal tone. Niniva stared over at the man with a certain level of distrust. . If they knew what had happened or what she was.. he was certainly someone to try and negotiate with, however she felt his intentions weren't exactly sinister..at least not in reference to her.. perhaps she had it all wrong. She knew not exactly he wanted, but the opportunity to get out of this area perked her interest.. And old habits die hard as they say. Within her, an old blood lust beckoned, again.. it would seem she would lose her way in this world.. and become the killing device of others. Turning fully in his direction. "I'm Listening..." She replied.
_
Name: Luke Storros

Race: Human

Age: 19 (Since an older character probably wouldn't make a lick of sense, this being a sort of forced "'KAAAAAAAY GAIS YOU'RE FRESH OUTTA THE ACADEMY." sort of thing. For the record, I had someone around ten years older planned.)

Weapon of Choice: Dagger

Appearance: Before coming into service of the King, Luke wore little more then a ragged, dull green cloak. Shortly after, however, he was dressed in a dark green cloak over a white military-esque suit. The suit itself is a dull white with a set of buttons down the middle. As for his body, he's taller then the average person, at roughly 5'8. He has little muscle, and is rather skinny, this being an advantage and a weakness for him. His hair is a sheen black with no particular hairstyle, simply sitting there. His eyes are a dim blue, however at times they turn cold and lifeless.

((Note that this is five years prior to coming to the Castle))
Background: A once-mental case, Luke was born and raised in Twilight Town. Luke was never one for social interaction, nor material possessions like all the other kids seemed to enjoy. What he found an escape in was fighting. For a cause? Perhaps, but the mere thought and satisfaction of seeing the corpse of another fall to the floor was the thing to keep Luke through his childhood after seeing fights on the streets (among other places), which was perhaps the most difficult part of his life. He was forced to work like a slave for not only his parents, but anyone else his parents felt like "lending" him to, an actual term they had used once before. By the age of fourteen, the abuse had driven him to the brink of insanity.

The thought of escape from the cesspit that Twilight Town was for him, was what drove him through the next year, when finally his mind broke. He was cast out of the home he hated with nothing by his very parents. He wasn't unprepared for such a thing; after living so roughly, he already had a plan. He headed to the port and stashed himself away on a Gummi Ship bound for the Castle. He had heard of the King, and thought that, if nothing more, he could become a servant. It would be better then what little he had left here.

But, he was still torn into pieces. He felt insanity gnawing at him, as if hiding away was a cruel torture, making not a movement or sound. He was not one for patience. Despite that, he had managed to keep hidden throughout the large Dreadnought among several hiding places, mainly behind an unoccupied chair at the back. Stealth seemed to have a calling for him, he had thought. He drifted into a light sleep hours later, unable to keep himself awake any longer.

Another couple of hours had passed, and suddenly Luke woke up with a near-start, barely able to keep still, his heart pumping. He seemed to feel light-headed as he heard air hiss somewhere outside of the ship, along with a metallic grind from the bottom. They were docking. Perhaps he had finally escaped from his old life. Light shined through the main window, casting a shadow over the deck. He peeked his head out, surveying the large yet strangely unused area. In one of the pilot seats was a man, sleep against the chair, and behind him a woman impatiently drumming her fingers against the seat. The woman and a third person were arguing over something or other, Luke couldn't help but notice. He withdrew his head and felt a growing longing for freedom in his stomach; a grip on him that he couldn't shake off.

The wave of force from landing didn't budge Luke an inch; he was too far to get discovered now. Another hiss of air; the door was opening. The man in the co-pilot seat jutted awake. "Come on already. We're here." A third man muttered in a annoyed, yet strangely relieved tone of voice. They filed out quickly and nervously, and soon before the door closed Luke ran out.

Finally, finally free.

Level: 1

Class: Swordsman
HP : 115/115
MP : 24/24
STR 7
AGI 9
INT 2
VIT 115,928
LUK 1
_
Name: Sylvia D'étioles

Race: Human(ish).

Age: 19

Weapon of Choice: Wand

Appearance: Sylvia has an average build and is a slightly taller than the average woman but still much shorter than most men. She has long, straight dark blue hair that stretches the length of her back. Her ears are slightly pointed though nowhere near the same as an elf's on each of her ears are silver star earrings. She has lively, fiery orange eyes. She has a bright complexion and her face is usually smiling or laughing. Her usual attire consists of a violet tank top, and short shorts of the same colour. On her arms she has fishnet sleeves and on her hands she has violet fingerless gloves, each with a moon on the palm. Her boots are black and very long, and flexible, they cover most of her legs showing a bit of skin between her shorts and the top of her boots. On her hip hangs a chain with a silver crescent moon. On the top of her head she wears a pointed violet witch's hat but the top of the hat sags down slightly with her keyblade-shaped badge hanging from the tip.

Background: Sylvia does not remember anything of her parents or her family, she only knows that she is a witchling, an apprentice witch. Her master was Maleficent the powerful dark witch, who raised Sylvia as her own daughter in secret. At her demise by Sora and his friends, Sylvia was taken in (kidnapped) by the good fairies Flora, Fauna and Merryweather, who raised her hoping to cleanse the darkness forged within her heart. After years of tutoring and purifying, the three fairies soon came to the realization that Sylvia had a strong heart, perfect for a Keyblade Wielder, so they sent her to the academy.

Sylvia's life in the academy was entirely different from her serene, lush forest home in the Enchanted Dominion. She was very mischievous, constantly playing pranks on her teachers, loud, stubborn and outgoing. Many of her pranks led to constant visits with the head master of the school, whom she now knows fairly well. Being a witch, she excelled in all her classes pertaining to magic, and potions. Though she is capable in weapon combat and an excellent (though wild) gummi ship pilot. Even with all the lectures from the various heroes and even Sora himself, Sylvia never really understood what it meant to have a strong heart, she only cared about completing school and leaving the academy her "aunts" had stuck her in. It wasn't until she saw the devastation that Heartless and Nobodies had struck worlds with that she had a change of heart and her number one goal in life was to attain a keyblade.

Class: Mage
HP : 119/119
MP : 38/38
STR 1
AGI 5
INT 9
VIT 119,406
LUK 3
_
Name: Ross Aldorin

Race: Nobody

Age: 27

Weapon of Choice: Wand, held loosely.

Appearance: A man in his late twenties, Ross looks quite young. His tall height tends to intimidate, but his welcoming facial features tend to have the opposite effect. Thin and lanky, he has a light complexion, and bright brown eyes. A thin beard has grown on his chin, to accompany his light auburn hair, which is grown out to reach his neck. Bangs hang down his face. Small, rimless glasses rest on his nose, making his eyes appear smaller than they really are. His mouth is almost always kept at a thin smile. He wears a black button-up, which hangs loosely down his pants, as he makes a point not to tuck it in. He has a white coat over this, with a thick black border that encompasses all of the edges. The cuffs of his sleeves enlarged so he can conceal weaponry and items. The pocket of his coat has a chain hanging down, which leads to a silver stop watch that resides in his pants pocket. This pocket is marked with a black thread design in the shape of two hands of a clock. These pants are of a thin fabric, so as to not restrict movement, and are a shade of cream to match the coat. His tennis shoes are dark, with white laces. They have small white clocks embroidered on them, for he is a man of time, making each moment fit into his tight schedule. The sneakers are a very snug fit, so they remain untied. His overall look is fairly formal, but the small designs give his attire a quirkier side.

Background: Knew nothing of his past life until a few days prior. Was taken in by a family after his formation in a small district in Traverse Town, who did not know of his true form. His childhood was relatively uneventful, averaging in every class, and had found no talents that were worthy of note. However, upon reaching the age of fourteen, he was promptly taken by a rogue wizard who had recently left the academy. Although he had cried for help, not a soul had heard him, and he was taken into a small shack connected to a rundown house in another district. His only companion in his tiny was a clock. A clock he watched, all day for the first couple weeks, focusing, praying for it to go faster. The second hand kept it's steady speed. On the 15 day of confinement, his abilities began to surface. He could manipulate the time, slowing it down, or speeding it up. His fascination for this grew, and for the first time, he had found something that he was exceptional at. After a day of speeding up the time, he decided to try to increase the rate further, but the clock had reached its limit, promptly breaking upon his magical interference. Soon after, the rogue had come back for him, and began to train him. Ross had no choice. He was too far away from home. His mental stability was brought into question, as at this age he knew not what to do, and he missed his family. However, the man seemed to need him for something, for he threatened him with death should he attempt escape. His magical abilities were worth being trained. He spent years honing his ability with the mysterious man, and was legally declared dead. The wizard was killed when the Nobodies came for Ross. He followed them, for they enticed him with answers about his origin. To this day, he hides the fear and sorrow behind the joyful look he holds.

However, if one was to look deep into his eyes, the happiness runs only to the retina.

Class: Shaman

Shaman- Extremely powerful mages and wielders of magic. Good stats all-around.
HP : 119/119
MP : 38/38
STR 1
AGI 5
INT 9
VIT 119,406
LUK 3
_
Name: Tekun

Race: Human

Age: 24

Weapon: A curved katana like blade.

Appearance: A tall well built man standing at a height of 6 foot 2. He wears a brown trench coat that covers a white t shirt. Strapped to his back is a sheathed blade, his personal blade that he has used since he was but a small child. His eyes are a deep blue color, over his right is a scar that runs over it. He wears a pair of brown slacks and brown worn boots. With all this, he wears a pair of gauntlets, they stand out as it’s the only pair of armor he wears, however, it serves more or less as a hand guard so that his hand’s will not be damaged during combat.

Background: It had been a long time since they took over, the nameless. Very few remained, evil had taken over. Tekun remembered that day, what happened. The day they had taken over. Very few remained, most of the hope was lost, many were dead, but not all. Zephiel and his men had came in. so sudden. The battle did not go as intended. Despite how valiantly they fought, many died. Eventually Hector ordered the retreat, Lyn fell and Eliwood fell. In the retreat, Roy fell along with Hector. They ran, hiding, move from place to place each day. The world they knew was gone. Hector’s daughter Lilina leads the resistance, joining them are Wolt, Echidna, Chad, Astol, Merlinius, Gonzalles, Fir and Tekun. The rest were either missing or dead.

Tekun knew how slim there chances were, how far they’d go without help. There base was hidden well enough, they would be fine. They would need to hold out just a little longer. With that, he told them he was leaving, to find help.

"If i'm not back within three months. I'm dead." His exact words. "Here's my blade. take it. It'll be of more use to you then I."

To do what he could. Tekun stumbled across a Gummi ship, one that still worked, wasting no time, he made his way to the Disney Castle. There he joined they’re ranks. He knew it would be the only way to get the help he needed. Two months later, he graduated, finding himself here.

Class: swordsman
Level 1
HP 115/115
MP 24/24
STR 7
AGI 9
INT 2
VIT 115,928
LUK 1
_
Name: Althea Weston

Race: Human

Age: 25

Weapon: Sword

Level: 1

Class: Paladin[Justice]
HP : 130/130
MP : 26/26
STR 7
AGI 5
INT 3
VIT 130,478
LUK 0

Appearance: Hair of a striking red, braided and extended in a ponytail down to her middle back, Alabaster skin, eyes as blue as the 7 seas. Standing around 5’11, her muscles are toned, fit, conditioned for close quarter battles and endurance of even the harshest of climates. Upon her head is worn a tiara with a small oval shaped green gem fastened to lie upon the forehead. The rest of her clothing could be seen as a clash between a knights traditional plate armor and a more modern dash of modern casual wear. She wore but a single steel pauldron upon her right shoulder, fitting on snug, having a sleek blue tint to its metal surface. Quite a contrast however, Althea was clad also in a heavy longcoat. The coat sat under the pauldron, hanging loosely over her form. The white colored thick garment lie unzipped upon her torso, leaving it opened wide, the furry cuffs of sleeves ended just at her wrists, where plated gauntlets adorned her hands. like the rest of her metal armor, it was of a deep blue hue. A matching metal knight's collar sat fastened upon her neck, expanding outwards towards her shoulders two inches before inverting downward just over her chest in a diamond point. This knight's collar had studs laden across its edges , engraved in the steel. A thin breast-plate also was apparent under the coat as well; The blue-tinted steel snug upon her bosoms, the majestic steel inverting like the collar, downwards towards her belly, creating a diamond point just over her belly button, leaving the rest of her stomach area bare; the light skin and toned abdominal muscles free to the brisk air. Upon her back, strapped across her firmly, was the sheathe for her sword. Upon her legs she wore dark blue denim jeans, taut along her bottom and legs, tucking away into her thick brown boots. A belt buckled tight upon her waist. (Her appearance is ofcourse a change from what she wears on her own world)

Background: Like her sister, She too delved into a life of normalcy whence things died down, and a relative era of peace finally grasped Tarvin and the surrounding territories. Althea was a Valkyrie Knight no more. She laid down her oaths of servitude and heavy plate set instead for lavish silken dresses and other garments of nobility. She was wealthy after all, she could afford to live in such a way. It wasn't as if her prior services would be needed now anyhow, given the current circumstances and changes in government that had taken place. Althea had fully expected to live the rest pf her days more so in her mothers footsteps, taking it upon herself to become a consul member or other type of politician.. not quite something she had looked forward to mind you, always having been one for combat.

That was until the unlikely visitor arrived. Althea would serve a royalty once more, if not one form her own world.

One fine summer's evening, The heavy oak doors of the her manor abode echoed with the sounds of knocking. It wasn't often nobility would be interrupted into the night, frankly if it was a frizzled commoner on the other side of those bulky gates then he would know what its like to live in a cell by that very morning.

With no keepers around to answer the persistent pounding, she took it upon she herself, if half heartedly. Clad in a fine silken night gown, Althea paced barefoot across the matted front hall towards the doors, Tugging it open with a sudden yanking strength, a look of annoyance already upon her demeanor, which then shifted to one of curious astonishment.

Before her stood an odd pair, strange to her eyes. A white-feathered duck with bearing a wand and dressed in what seemed to be a magicians coat, accompanied by a white-robed man. "Althea i take it?" The man said pleasantly, giving her an exuberant bow. "My friend and I here are here to offer you a proposal im sure you'd be inclined to take!"

Althea responded in a bewildered tone. "And what might that be ?"

"Why, to serve as a knight once more under the service of our Majesty King Mickey!, were you not once of a knightly elite? surely a life of strict diplomacy doesn't suit you!"

What an odd man.. She thought to herself, normally, she'd be quick to shove off such solicitors as nothing more than a crazy.. however.. he obviously had the knowledge of her prior calling.. heck.. it seemed to Althea he knew how much she resented her new found life.

"Explain yourself further" Althea responded firmly, stepping aside to allow the two within her home. The idea of wielded a blade yet again and clashing steel with steel was too much an enticing offer to simply let up.. even if it sounded unrealistic.

(I'm assuming a dagger can still cast spells, if I'm wrong, I'll revise the Bio)

Name: Amexa

Race: Nobody

Age: Previously 23

Weapon of Choice: Dagger

Appearance: Amexa wears a thin set of flexible, light-violet robes underneath a large black shroud outlined in gold. The shroud goes all the way to her neck, and spreads off to her shins, though there is a triangular opening starting from the thighs in front. The shroud folds on her neck, allowing her to form a hood if needed, which goes to the top of her forehead, as well as revealing the mark of Nobodies in a contrasting silver outlined in gold to complement the shroud. As well as the hood, the majority of the shroud has a larger mark around it, though it is not filled, and is just a golden outline. It stretches to her neck, and to the back of it, where the top point of the cross goes down to her back, the left and right points go through her arms to her wrists, and the bottom part goes to the middle of her legs, the upwards curve in the middle-bottom of the symbol is missing, since the shroud bends off.
Her hands are rather delicate-looking, with thin and white fingers, the fingernails are colored deep, dark-purple, and reach 3/4 of an inch. However, her feet barely resemble human, they look like vertical dark purple hooks, if seen from the side, they look like a jagged knife. These feet actually allow her to move very fast, and kicks make her melee attacks fatal, as well as letting her jump much higher than humans. Her legs are covered, but it can be assumed that at some point, the human features degrade to that of a typical Nobody from top to bottom. The hair she has is long and seem to be almost gelled in a specific fashion, as well has having a brilliant silver with a noticeable blue tint. The back of her head has a loose twisted hairbun with a low ponytail done in a messy way, complementing her sideburns, which separate into around four messy strands if she tilts her head down, the front of her hair is frazzled, and covers most of her forehead. Amexa's eyes are bi-chromatic, her left one being a milky gray from an accident when she was young (Though she can still see out of it), and the right one being the color she had for the longest time, an unusually brilliant yellow. The eye color of her birth was blue, which can be seen reflecting off the yellow if seen from a very close distance, her yellow eye color was from a disease which should've killed her after a few years before she became heartless, but it doesn't affect her Nobody form.
She holds her current weapon, a dagger, backwards if using it for melee attacks, but if casting spells, she will swing it like a wand.

Background: Amexa's past life was a spiraling depression, her husband had left her to be a widow, whom she mourned for every day since his death. Even though the strongest Nobodies couldn't feel emotions, she felt a shiver whenever Amexa reminisced about it. She has proven herself to the Nobodies by demonstrating magic in an above-par level, which was needed since several Nobodies practiced brawn, either in the present or their past lives. Amexa actually has no will, or real reason to participate in the struggle, but being overtaken by Keyblade wielders was a threatening thought. She actually was enjoying (To the extent Nobodies can) her current life, emotions could not overtake her, she did not feel the urge to mourn for her husband, and if the struggle is won for them, it'd be bliss. The reason for her position as a mage is the secret practice she went through, though long forgotten when she was widowed, the skills that were learned had suddenly come back to her, as a Nobody, she could shuffle through her unconscious memories much further into the past with ease.

Class: Incarnate

OoC: Expectations and nuisances are spelled wrong <<

Normally, one trained specifically for mage attributes would go for the table with the wand. However, the idea struck of running out of mana was quite an easy mistake, or being cornered by brutes. Amexa's mana was noticeably large already, and there was no need for a weak wand which couldn't kill a rat without being used for magic. A dagger would suffice, she was hoping an authority would not force her to take the wand. Her robes and shroud was a bright neon billboard advertising she was in the wrong place. Thieves and assassins were scurrying and taking what they needed around her. It was easy to pass through them, most of them were quite fast and moved on quickly, so there was no jam.

Amexa pulled her sleeve over her right hand's fingers, and nonchalantly gripped the cloth, as well as bending her elbow slightly. She looked normal, though her right arm was gone now, no one could pay attention to her peculiar choice of weapon.

Name: Kevin E. Post

Race: Human.

Age: 19

Weapon of Choice: Dagger

Appearance: Kevin's hair is naturally long and dark black, bothering his vision at times. He wears a long black robe trimmed with dark blue/ purple over a dark blue long sleeved shirt and long shorts of the same color, which are seen only when he takes his robe off to fight for long periods of time. Green is the color of his eyes, and his skin is light. His shoes are dark brown, but are not visable when Kevin's robe is worn. He's very light and short, positively contributing to his agility. He wears gloves on his hands, which are ripped and torn, showing skin here and there. His dagger is always carried in his right hand, never his left.

Background: There's not much difference from Kevin's present and his past. Training nonstop, getting ready for war, anything like that. Since he was small, he'd been trained to fight, and spy. At first, he wanted nothing to do this war, and wanted to leave it all to everyone else. That was until his only aunt, uncle and cousins were murdered. Usually, death'll effect someone negatively, but that wasn't the case here. He WANTED to go to war now. He HAD to. All that training, led him here. He'd finally managed it. He was going to fight.

Class: Infiltrator


/Damnit Hakker, stop playing mindgames with me over pm ;_;\



Kevin nodded slightly with each sentence the man said. He mumbled in agreement to most of the statements, and repeated each word carefully inside his head. By the time the man had finished talking, he'd remembered most of what he said. Excitement built inside of him as he turned his head towards the tables on which weapons were carefully laid upon. He walked majestically toward a table on which a dagger, a sword, an axe, and wand. The axe obviously isn't a great choice for me... Considering I'm not very, errm, strong. A sword could be of use to me, but again, I'd rather have something quicker. A dagger, or a wand. Errr, I could go with magic, but, I don't think it'd be as much use to me as this...He thought, looking down at a dagger. A grin flashed on his face and he laid his right, glove-covered hand on it. His fingers closed in on the handle tightly. Perfect. Just perfect. He thought, now looking around at his fellow 'Keryblade Wielders'.

Name: Niniva Aerovine

Race: "Nobody."

Age: 25

Weapon: Dagger, held underhanded.

Class: Assassin

Appearance: Her skin is the color of sand, faintly tanned and with a smooth texture. Her wavy forest green hair flowing down to the middle of her neck and hanging over the right side of her face. Her eyes hazel, laden with a constant gentleness within her desolate expression. Standing only about 5'6. her frame rather lean around the waist, bust of an approximate C size. No particular feature stands out as being anything other than human. What of her flesh is exposed reveals that her muscles seem toned and slim, strong enough to propel acrobatic maneuvers, however seeming too slender to consider physically powerful. Upon her body she wore a gloomy sleeveless black blouse, bearing a violet indentation resembling an inverted diamond, settled upon the stomach region. matching arm sleeves covering her upper arms, made of an almost translucent silk; fastened securely from just below her shoulders down to over her elbows, where the material starts to widen and hang from off of her. Her hands clad with a peculiar set of pelt gloves, they did not extend over to her fingers except for her fore and ring fingers, creating a V across her hands; Thin iron rings engraved into the material just over her palms. Black taut shorts clipped to matching thigh high leather leggings; the leggings themselves stretch right on down into her boots, however cut-out large eccentric designs expose much of the sides of her legs, revealing the flesh underneath. Her heeled boots corresponding to the rest of her attire, studded leather decorating around the heels and ankles. Two belts wrapped tightly around her waist, crisscrossing one another. Across their thin dark surface is embedded runic symbols bearing a deep red hue. She was given the traditional Nobody robe upon recruitment, and so wears it over her normal clothing when not in combat.


Background:(Original Bio Found here viewtopic.php?f=23&t=693 )
Only A few months had gone by since the "Ascension of the Damned" (Climax of Nini's Original Storyline), and Niniva had fallen into the flow of normal society within the gates of Tarvin, out of the wayward public eye. Keeping herself in a constant reverted state; Having sweared off the viciousness of her true form.

The mark of black smog upon her mid-back, extended over to her stomach area; the lone reminder of what had occurred. The battles, persecution, blood, tears and conflict.

It was only when the mark wasn't ignorable; The occasional throbbing pain or the passing glance in a mirror when it wasn't covered, That the facade of her humanity in her own mind, wasted away like powder in a breeze. Otherwise, she lived quite comfortably in her falsity. Working at some shoddy inn bordering the Lower Class Slums.

Though the past cannot be Ignored so easily.


The violet colored moon was full in the night skies over the -mostly- silent city, the sounds of the night; Howls of wolves, chirping of crickets, and echoing noises of drunk tavern dwellers, never let the air ring with perfect stillness. Niniva was on her way through the cobblestone streets , when out in front of her a robed man emerged from a desolate alleyway. Quick to believe him a solicitor or common street thug, she'd sidestep and walk passed him, brushing across his shoulder in a shunning display. Just as she would take a few steps past, he turned around halfway. "Niniva was it?.. I would like a word with you, we believe you have.. potential" She stopped in her tracks. had she been found out? turning her head to his direction. "How is it you know my name?, What do you want with me?" She said with a mild layer of anger, disguising the underlying feeling of dread. "I mean you no harm, only a proposition. . We have need of your services" the man said in a formal tone. Niniva stared over at the man with a certain level of distrust. . If they knew what had happened or what she was.. he was certainly someone to try and negotiate with, however she felt his intentions weren't exactly sinister..at least not in reference to her.. perhaps she had it all wrong. She knew not exactly he wanted, but the opportunity to get out of this area perked her interest.. And old habits die hard as they say. Within her, an old blood lust beckoned, again.. it would seem she would lose her way in this world.. and become the killing device of others. Turning fully in his direction. "I'm Listening..." She replied.
______________________________________________________________



What an odd place.. Niniva thought to herself, wandering her thoughts off into reminiscence for but a quick moment, quick to realign her attention to the man before them all. Lest she miss something important. Drawing upon his every word. In the back of her mind, a thought lingered.. a telling little whisper from an old adversary that she routinely ignored in the past whenever it recurred within her mind.. Puppets obey the master's strings. Gaze shifting towards the table laden with the weapons. She observed the female caster before her taking upon her new found weapon. At this moment she silently cursed herself.. she hadn't brought anything with her.. but she supposed it would have been rude anyway to not partake of these gifts of her new benefactors.

Boots clipping upon the tiled pristine floor, Niniva walked on over to the table besides her. Reaching her left hand over to swipe a dagger as well. To her, it was the only thing that made sense. She was not practiced in the use of axes nor wands, and though she had a decent skill in swordsmanship, the dagger was the most familiar to her. Most related to her prior weaponry. Holding the blade underhand, eyes gazing over its edge examining its craftsmanship; the wide-brimmed blade curving backward. This would be perfect enough.."Simple Enough Choice" she murmured aloud, slipping the blade in between her criss-crossed belts, a make-shift sheath. The zipper down the front of her robe was pulled open so that the clothing underneath bared out freely. Her vision shifted on from the table towards the doors to the mission study. Time to get started.. she thought to herself, pacing on towards the study, boots clapping against the flooring.

Name: Luke Storros

Race: Human

Age: 19

Weapon of Choice: Sword

Appearance: Before coming into service of the King, Luke wore little more then a ragged, dull green cloak. Shortly after, however, he was dressed in a dark green cloak over a white military-esque suit. The suit itself is a dull white with a set of buttons down the middle. As for his body, he's taller then the average person, at roughly 5'8. He has little muscle, and is rather skinny, this being an advantage and a weakness for him. His hair is a sheen black with no particular hairstyle, simply sitting there. His eyes are a dim blue, however at times they turn cold and lifeless.

((Note that this is five years prior to coming to the Castle))
Background: A once-mental case, Luke was born and raised in Twilight Town. Luke was never one for social interaction, nor material possessions like all the other kids seemed to enjoy. What he found an escape in was fighting. For a cause? Perhaps, but the mere thought and satisfaction of seeing the corpse of another fall to the floor was the thing to keep Luke through his childhood after seeing fights on the streets (among other places), which was perhaps the most difficult part of his life. He was forced to work like a slave for not only his parents, but anyone else his parents felt like "lending" him to, an actual term they had used once before. By the age of fourteen, the abuse had driven him to the brink of insanity.

The thought of escape from the cesspit that Twilight Town was for him, was what drove him through the next year, when finally his mind broke. He was cast out of the home he hated with nothing by his very parents. He wasn't unprepared for such a thing; after living so roughly, he already had a plan. He headed to the port and stashed himself away on a Gummi Ship bound for the Castle. He had heard of the King, and thought that, if nothing more, he could become a servant. It would be better then what little he had left here.

But, he was still torn into pieces. He felt insanity gnawing at him, as if hiding away was a cruel torture, making not a movement or sound. He was not one for patience. Despite that, he had managed to keep hidden throughout the large Dreadnought among several hiding places, mainly behind an unoccupied chair at the back. Stealth seemed to have a calling for him, he had thought. He drifted into a light sleep hours later, unable to keep himself awake any longer.

Another couple of hours had passed, and suddenly Luke woke up with a near-start, barely able to keep still, his heart pumping. He seemed to feel light-headed as he heard air hiss somewhere outside of the ship, along with a metallic grind from the bottom. They were docking. Perhaps he had finally escaped from his old life. Light shined through the main window, casting a shadow over the deck. He peeked his head out, surveying the large yet strangely unused area. In one of the pilot seats was a man, sleep against the chair, and behind him a woman impatiently drumming her fingers against the seat. The woman and a third person were arguing over something or other, Luke couldn't help but notice. He withdrew his head and felt a growing longing for freedom in his stomach; a grip on him that he couldn't shake off.

The wave of force from landing didn't budge Luke an inch; he was too far to get discovered now. Another hiss of air; the door was opening. The man in the co-pilot seat jutted awake. "Come on already. We're here." A third man muttered in a annoyed, yet strangely relieved tone of voice. They filed out quickly and nervously, and soon before the door closed Luke ran out.

Finally, finally free.

Class: Swordsman
STR 7
AGI 9
INT 2
VIT 106
LUK 1

((A full-fledged dagger combo. Disregard that, I use swords.))

Name: Sylvia D'étioles

Race: Human(ish).

Age: 19

Weapon of Choice: Wand

Appearance: Sylvia has an average build and is a slightly taller than the average woman but still much shorter than most men. She has long, straight dark blue hair that stretches the length of her back. Her ears are slightly pointed though nowhere near the same as an elf's on each of her ears are silver star earrings. She has lively, fiery orange eyes. She has a bright complexion and her face is usually smiling or laughing. Her usual attire consists of a violet tank top, and short shorts of the same colour. On her arms she has fishnet sleeves and on her hands she has violet fingerless gloves, each with a moon on the palm. Her boots are black and very long, and flexible, they cover most of her legs showing a bit of skin between her shorts and the top of her boots. On her hip hangs a chain with a silver crescent moon. On the top of her head she wears a pointed violet witch's hat but the top of the hat sags down slightly with her keyblade-shaped badge hanging from the tip.

Background: Sylvia does not remember anything of her parents or her family, she only knows that she is a witchling, an apprentice witch. Her master was Maleficent the powerful dark witch, who raised Sylvia as her own daughter in secret. At her demise by Sora and his friends, Sylvia was taken in (kidnapped) by the good fairies Flora, Fauna and Merryweather, who raised her hoping to cleanse the darkness forged within her heart. After years of tutoring and purifying, the three fairies soon came to the realization that Sylvia had a strong heart, perfect for a Keyblade Wielder, so they sent her to the academy.

Sylvia's life in the academy was entirely different from her serene, lush forest home in the Enchanted Dominion. She was very mischievous, constantly playing pranks on her teachers, loud, stubborn and outgoing. Many of her pranks led to constant visits with the head master of the school, whom she now knows fairly well. Being a witch, she excelled in all her classes pertaining to magic, and potions. Though she is capable in weapon combat and an excellent (though wild) gummi ship pilot. Even with all the lectures from the various heroes and even Sora himself, Sylvia never really understood what it meant to have a strong heart, she only cared about completing school and leaving the academy her "aunts" had stuck her in. It wasn't until she saw the devastation that Heartless and Nobodies had struck worlds with that she had a change of heart and her number one goal in life was to attain a keyblade.

Class: Shaman

Shaman- Extremely powerful mages and weilders of magic. Good stats all-around.
STR 1
AGI 5
INT 9
VIT 119,406
LUK 3

-----
"I congratulate each and every one of you." The man said slowly, pushing his glasses up as he stood on the small podium, overlooking the small crowd of people. "Each and every one of you has proven their skill with magic, weapon and gummi ship." He stated, tapping a single, booted foot on the white ceramic floor. "You are the first batch of Keyblade Wielders to graduate from the academy." He had a knack for stating the obvious. "As such, you have many expactations to live up to." The man continued, holding out a small badge shaped like a keyblade. "These badges identify you to both our allies and enemies, keep them on your person and visible at all times."

Sylvia waited impatiently her badge swinging side to side as she tapped her right foot waiting for the man to stop talking. "Blah Blah Blah...when are we going to get our keyblades" she thought to herself. She resisted the urge to shout out for the man to stop his yammering and let them get on with things already, but she held her tongue. She was now an official keyblade wielder. Sylvia stood up straighter feeling proud of herself at getting so far, she had to use a magic mirror and tell her aunts how grateful she was of them, though she knew she wouldn't get sappy. She returned her attention to the man who was still talking to them.

"You will be expected to fight any enemy of the Kingdom, and you will do so without hesitation, no matter if they are Heartless, Nobody or Human." It was starting to sound like he was reciting the code of conduct. "We are at war, and you are the future generals. The créme de la créme. We have assignments waiting for you as soon as we are done here, or you may go off exploring on your own." The man continued, pointing towards the many tables filled with swords, daggers, axes and wands. "Pick one weapon, then you may leave, or speak to my associates in order to either help with the war, or go off on other duties." He finished, hopping off the platform. "You are the elite of the Kingdom, hand picked by the King himself! Do not let him down!"

Sylvia's shoulders slumped, she wanted to march up to the man's face and yell at him. "How do they expect us to be keyblade wielders if we have no keyblades to wield?" she muttered to herself grumpily, while walking over to the table. She sighed at the poor selection they had for weapons "Guess I'm going to have to choose this wand" she said while picking up the silver stick, she shuddered. It was items like wands that reminded her more and more how she was becoming more fairy-like. She walked towards the man that had wasted at least a good ten minutes of her life. "Umm...excuse me sir" she said politely "But...aren't we supposed to have...you know....keyblades?"

Name: Ross Aldorin

Race: Nobody

Age: 27

Weapon of Choice: Wand, held loosely.

Appearance: A man in his late twenties, Ross looks quite young. His tall height tends to intimidate, but his welcoming facial features tend to have the opposite effect. Thin and lanky, he has a light complexion, and bright brown eyes. A thin beard has grown on his chin, to accompany his light auburn hair, which is grown out to reach his neck. Bangs hang down his face. Small, rimless glasses rest on his nose, making his eyes appear smaller than they really are. His mouth is almost always kept at a thin smile. He wears a black button-up, which hangs loosely down his pants, as he makes a point not to tuck it in. He has a white coat over this, with a thick black border that encompasses all of the edges. The cuffs of his sleeves enlarged so he can conceal weaponry and items. The pocket of his coat has a chain hanging down, which leads to a silver stop watch that resides in his pants pocket. This pocket is marked with a black thread design in the shape of two hands of a clock. These pants are of a thin fabric, so as to not restrict movement, and are a shade of cream to match the coat. His tennis shoes are dark, with white laces. They have small white clocks embroidered on them, for he is a man of time, making each moment fit into his tight schedule. The sneakers are a very snug fit, so they remain untied. His overall look is fairly formal, but the small designs give his attire a quirkier side.

Background: Knew nothing of his past life until a few days prior. Was taken in by a family after his formation in a small district in Traverse Town, who did not know of his true form. His childhood was relatively uneventful, averaging in every class, and had found no talents that were worthy of note. However, upon reaching the age of fourteen, he was promptly taken by a rogue wizard who had recently left the academy. Although he had cried for help, not a soul had heard him, and he was taken into a small shack connected to a rundown house in another district. His only companion in his tiny was a clock. A clock he watched, all day for the first couple weeks, focusing, praying for it to go faster. The second hand kept it's steady speed. On the 15 day of confinement, his abilities began to surface. He could manipulate the time, slowing it down, or speeding it up. His fascination for this grew, and for the first time, he had found something that he was exceptional at. After a day of speeding up the time, he decided to try to increase the rate further, but the clock had reached its limit, promptly breaking upon his magical interference. Soon after, the rogue had come back for him, and began to train him. Ross had no choice. He was too far away from home. His mental stability was brought into question, as at this age he knew not what to do, and he missed his family. However, the man seemed to need him for something, for he threatened him with death should he attempt escape. His magical abilities were worth being trained. He spent years honing his ability with the mysterious man, and was legally declared dead. The wizard was killed when the Nobodies came for Ross. He followed them, for they enticed him with answers about his origin. To this day, he hides the fear and sorrow behind the joyful look he holds.

However, if one was to look deep into his eyes, the happiness runs only to the retina.

Class: Shaman

Shaman- Extremely powerful mages and wielders of magic. Good stats all-around.
STR 1
AGI 5
INT 9
VIT 119,406
LUK 3

IC:

"Yesterday, you were mere humans. But today, you are gods. All of you have been trained to combat the forces that wish to halt our progress. Progress that my masters have worked dearly for and fought brutally to accomplish. They seek to fill the void that we occupy with prophetic nuances and drivel about pureness of heart. They want to guide their young compatriots down the path of light and show them the way."

Ross made a silent nod in agreement. He certainly did feel brighter than he did yesterday. He focused his eyes on the general, absorbing every word spoken. Light was relative, of course, and Nothing appealed to him, and was his light. A touch of sympathy hit his heart, disappointed in the education of the humans, and he was glad to no longer count himself among their ranks. The man leaned up against the wall, peering around at the others lazily. It was good to know that there were others, he had worried that he was the only one. Luckily, the ranks seem to be enough to halt the absurdity that was spreading across the universe. The time had come for Nothing to overcome the light.

A sheepish smile spread across his face as he thought such strong thoughts. Being around others really boosted his morale and he was no longer afraid to have differing opinions. As the speech finished up, it seemed that the spirits of all of the entities in the room were raised. The job at hand did not seem like too much of a challenge. To misguide, to trick. Although he had no experience in the field, he was ready. This was a cause he supported, a cause worth fighting for. Moving with the troops, he managed to reach his arm in and pick a particularly round wand, and deciding from this point on, there would be no turning back.

Name: Tekun

Race: Human

Age: 24

Weapon: A curved katana like blade.

Appearance: A tall well built man standing at a height of 6 foot 2. He wears a brown trench coat that covers a white t shirt. Strapped to his back is a sheathed blade, his personal blade that he has used since he was but a small child. His eyes are a deep blue color, over his right is a scar that runs over it. He wears a pair of brown slacks and brown worn boots. With all this, he wears a pair of gauntlets, they stand out as it’s the only pair of armor he wears, however, it serves more or less as a hand guard so that his hand’s will not be damaged during combat.

Background: It had been a long time since they took over, the nameless. Very few remained, evil had taken over. Tekun remembered that day, what happened. The day they had taken over. Very few remained, most of the hope was lost, many were dead, but not all. Zephiel and his men had came in. so sudden. The battle did not go as intended. Despite how valiantly they fought, many died. Eventually Hector ordered the retreat, Lyn fell and Eliwood fell. In the retreat, Roy fell along with Hector. They ran, hiding, move from place to place each day. The world they knew was gone. Hector’s daughter Lilina leads the resistance, joining them are Wolt, Echidna, Chad, Astol, Merlinius, Gonzalles, Fir and Tekun. The rest were either missing or dead.

Tekun knew how slim there chances were, how far they’d go without help. There base was hidden well enough, they would be fine. They would need to hold out just a little longer. With that, he told them he was leaving, to find help.

"If i'm not back within three months. I'm dead." His exact words. "Here's my blade. take it. It'll be of more use to you then I."

To do what he could. Tekun stumbled across a Gummi ship, one that still worked, wasting no time, he made his way to the Disney Castle. There he joined they’re ranks. He knew it would be the only way to get the help he needed. Two months later, he graduated, finding himself here.

"I congratulate each and every one of you." The man said slowly, pushing his glasses up as he stood on the small podium, overlooking the small crowd of people. "Each and every one of you has proven their skill with magic, weapon and gummi ship." He stated, tapping a single, booted foot on the white ceramic floor. "You are the first batch of Keyblade Wielders to graduate from the academy." He had a knack for stating the obvious. "As such, you have many expectations to live up to." The man continued, holding out a small badge shaped like a keyblade. "These badges identify you to both our allies and enemies, keep them on your person and visible at all times."

"You will be expected to fight any enemy of the Kingdom, and you will do so without hesitation, no matter if they are Heartless, Nobody or Human." It was starting to sound like he was reciting the code of conduct. "We are at war, and you are the future generals. The créme de la créme. We have assignments waiting for you as soon as we are done here, or you may go off exploring on your own." The man continued, pointing towards the many tables filled with swords, daggers, axes and wands. "Pick one weapon, then you may leave, or speak to my associates in order to either help with the war, or go off on other duties." He finished, hopping off the platform. "You are the elite of the Kingdom, hand picked by the King himself! Do not let him down!"

Tekun hesitently took the blade on the table. He had his own, but until he got his back, this would have to do.

"By my blade, there will be no evil that will stand." Tekun said and sheathed it.


Class: swordsman
Level 1
HP 115/115
MP 24/24
STR 7
AGI 9
INT 2
VIT 115,928
LUK 1

Name: Althea Weston

Race: Human

Age: 25

Weapon: Sword

Class: Paladin[Justice]

Appearance: Hair of a striking red, braided and extended in a ponytail down to her middle back, Alabaster skin, eyes as blue as the 7 seas. Standing around 5’11, her muscles are toned, fit, conditioned for close quarter battles and endurance of even the harshest of climates. Upon her head is worn a tiara with a small oval shaped green gem fastened to lie upon the forehead. The rest of her clothing could be seen as a clash between a knights traditional plate armor and a more modern dash of modern casual wear. She wore but a single steel pauldron upon her right shoulder, fitting on snug, having a sleek blue tint to its metal surface. Quite a contrast however, Althea was clad also in a heavy longcoat. The coat sat under the pauldron, hanging loosely over her form. The white colored thick garment lie unzipped upon her torso, leaving it opened wide, the furry cuffs of sleeves ended just at her wrists, where plated gauntlets adorned her hands. like the rest of her metal armor, it was of a deep blue hue. A matching metal knight's collar sat fastened upon her neck, expanding outwards towards her shoulders two inches before inverting downward just over her chest in a diamond point. This knight's collar had studs laden across its edges , engraved in the steel. A thin breast-plate also was apparent under the coat as well; The blue-tinted steel snug upon her bosoms, the majestic steel inverting like the collar, downwards towards her belly, creating a diamond point just over her belly button, leaving the rest of her stomach area bare; the light skin and toned abdominal muscles free to the brisk air. Upon her back, strapped across her firmly, was the sheathe for her sword. Upon her legs she wore dark blue denim jeans, taut along her bottom and legs, tucking away into her thick brown boots. A belt buckled tight upon her waist. (Her appearance is ofcourse a change from what she wears on her own world)

Background: (Original Bio found here viewtopic.php?f=23&t=2451) Like her sister, She too delved into a life of normalcy whence things died down, and a relative era of peace finally grasped Tarvin and the surrounding territories. Althea was a Valkyrie Knight no more. She laid down her oaths of servitude and heavy plate set instead for lavish silken dresses and other garments of nobility. She was wealthy after all, she could afford to live in such a way. It wasn't as if her prior services would be needed now anyhow, given the current circumstances and changes in government that had taken place. Althea had fully expected to live the rest pf her days more so in her mothers footsteps, taking it upon herself to become a consul member or other type of politician.. not quite something she had looked forward to mind you, always having been one for combat.

That was until the unlikely visitor arrived. Althea would serve a royalty once more, if not one form her own world.

One fine summer's evening, The heavy oak doors of the her manor abode echoed with the sounds of knocking. It wasn't often nobility would be interrupted into the night, frankly if it was a frizzled commoner on the other side of those bulky gates then he would know what its like to live in a cell by that very morning.

With no keepers around to answer the persistent pounding, she took it upon she herself, if half heartedly. Clad in a fine silken night gown, Althea paced barefoot across the matted front hall towards the doors, Tugging it open with a sudden yanking strength, a look of annoyance already upon her demeanor, which then shifted to one of curious astonishment.

Before her stood an odd pair, strange to her eyes. A white-feathered duck with bearing a wand and dressed in what seemed to be a magicians coat, accompanied by a white-robed man. "Althea i take it?" The man said pleasantly, giving her an exuberant bow. "My friend and I here are here to offer you a proposal im sure you'd be inclined to take!"

Althea responded in a bewildered tone. "And what might that be ?"

"Why, to serve as a knight once more under the service of our Majesty King Mickey!, were you not once of a knightly elite? surely a life of strict diplomacy doesn't suit you!"

What an odd man.. She thought to herself, normally, she'd be quick to shove off such solicitors as nothing more than a crazy.. however.. he obviously had the knowledge of her prior calling.. heck.. it seemed to Althea he knew how much she resented her new found life.

"Explain yourself further" Althea responded firmly, stepping aside to allow the two within her home. The idea of wielded a blade yet again and clashing steel with steel was too much an enticing offer to simply let up.. even if it sounded unrealistic.

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Althea stood up proudly from where she had sat, clad in her new attire. A fresh look retaining her knightly look yet melding along with the others that strolled around these foreign halls. This is what she needed.. a new foe to cut down, a new banner to fight under. It gave life meaning to her.. as awkward as it sounded. Her rough boots clamping down against the tiled floor, Althea made way towards the table of armaments, swiping a sword without a moments hesitation.

Pulling the blade so that the blunt flat rested against her tiara-clad forehead, shutting her eyes. It felt all too familiar. "This'll work quite well.." She spoke aloud, noting the long haired man taking the dagger just a few paces away from her, as well as the Mage and swordsman nearby. Althea pulled the weapon away from her, twirling it around with a flick of the wrist and putting it away with a clank of metal, into its sheath across her back. In her stalwart tone, the light of the hall shining somewhat off her metal pieces of gear, she turned around half way; Observing the other Keyblade wielders around her. Patience.. she thought to herself, biding her time to allow them to choose their weapons and prepare. She would confront them about moving out together if need be. There were Nobodys that needed slaying, afterall.

Let the games... Begin!

===All===
"There is, however, one last thing the King insisted on quite clearly." The man remembered, holding out his hands. "As long as you stay at Disney Castle, you will be escorted by a guard, who will act as your protector, as well as guide for as long as you stay here. They will do their best to assist you in any way." He explained. "We cannot spare to send these men away from the protection of the castle, however, in case of an emergency." The large double doors leading into the room swung open as a handful of guards, dressed in the standard gray plate mail that one saw frequent when residing in the Castle, their entire bodies a mystery as even their eyes were completely shielded by the helmet. They gave a quick salute, before standing at attention, each apparently waiting to be picked out by the Keyblade Wielders.

Behind them, although a lot less practiced and with some fumbling, came a group of scholars, each holding on to a bundle of papers. "Congratulations on your graduations." They said in unision, patting their bundles of paper. "We have assignments for you, if you wish to pick one out." They explained slowly.

===Sylvia===

The instructor seemed to visibly relax as the door swung open, an unusual response, but one that could be understood. This was the first time he we giving a graduation speech to those that were now technically, his superiors. They were the men and women that would soon be the generals of the King, only obeying to him and his two advisors. Of course, some of them would prove to not be worth it, he was sure. He snapped to attention as he was adressed, resisting the urge to salute the woman. "Well, you see, the correct name for you would be 'Keyblade Wielder hopefuls'." The man admitted, using a single finger to push his glasses up as they threatened to fall, once more. "However, that would turn us into the laughing stock of the universe, so we dropped the last word." The man scratched his chin as he paused for a few moments. "One of the real skills of a Keyblade Wielder, after all, is locating and convincing a Keyblade that you are worthy. These are not average overgrown keys, they have a mind and will of their own."

Even five years after his escape, Luke had only reattained some of his sanity. If you had known him before coming to the Castle, no doubt you'd think him a completely different person. He was dressed differently, long out of the rags he had arrived in. He was no longer a cold, anti-social boy; though from time to time such traits showed. His love of fighting was still there, however, and it was a joyous occasion for him to finally be done with the academy. He examined the weapons sitting on the tables thoroughly, as if it weer an inspection rather then a simple weapon choice. Finally his eyes rested upon a longsword of particular style he had favored. It was of simple design, though, despite the extra weight, it was agile. The perfect weapon for him. The hilt itself was made of steel as well, however black leather was wrapped around the main area of the hilt, giving it a better grip. He had seen weapons like it many times on his home world.

He grabbed the weapon and an accompanying sheathe. He clung to it with his right hand instead of a holder or on his back; it was balanced for him. He heard the man go on about something or other about guards, catching Luke's attention. "As long as you stay at Disney Castle, you will be escorted by a guard, who will act as your protector, as well as guide for as long as you stay here. They will do their best to assist you in any way." The man had said. Moments later he heard the door opening, standing there the few guards that had been mentioned. Scholars filed in behind them, and at the simultaneous, and seemingly rehearsed line, he couldn't help but be annoyed. He contained his feelings nonetheless, staying back from the crowd that would no doubt form. He would wait. Because of his childhood, he wasn't exactly prone to picking out a human life as if it was a possession.

Sylvia rolled her eyes and placed one hand on her hip "Always with the fine print" she mumbled to herself. "Well thanks for the information" she said turning away from the man and looking at each of the guards that stood before her. She eyed each of the guards there were no discernible differences between them, so she couldn't chose one according to her style. She walked over to them, and walked in front of the line of guardians twice, stopping randomly at one of the guards. "You'll do" she said to the guard she had stopped at. She walked towards the disorganized scholars, they were smart, and probably knew how she would come across any keyblades. "Ok which one of you eggheads know where I can get a mission that will give me a keyblade." she said bluntly.

A...guard?Kevin thought to himself, raising his eyebrow slightly at the sight of the guards. Well....I guess it wouldn't hurt... Walking slowly towards them, he decided to choose at random, as it didn't matter much anyways...right? He debated with himself about wether or not to take too long choosing one. He ended up making himself look silly by just standing there blankly, and choose the guard nearest to him. "Hello.." He mumbled quietly, before turning his back to the guard and walking towards the group of scholars with which he'd pick his first assignment. Excitement overwhelmed him, but decided to keep it to himself and just grinned to himself. He was sure the guard he had selected was following him, so he'd decided not to look back. Once he reached the scholars, he asked the nearest one, "Ermm, are there any moderately easy assigments I can try?"

Protector?.. i need no protector.. Althea thought to herself pridefully, shaking her head side to side as if in dismay. It would be rude to simply decline though..
Pacing casually towards the bunch of guards, without so much as a second glance Althea snapped her fingers towards the nearest guard whilst making her way towards the scholars with the others. "You'll do, come come" She stated firmly in a knightly command. Her booted feet making echoing 'clamps' upon the flooring as she settled on over by the others. Her red-orange ponytail bobbing up and down with each step, her flowing white long coat trailing behind her, what armor she had on glimmering from off the lights.




Althea budded in between the two, her right gauntleted hand grasped firmly at the handle of her sword upon her back.
"Sign me up with these two, and whoever else tags along" She Blurted out, tapping a foot upon the ground impatiently. Eager for combat.. for something to occupy her mind. To once again become drowned in tactical analysis and the flurry of battle. Quick to jump the gun, Althea spoke aloud to her two would-be compatriots, without so much as knowing if they'd even be undertaking the same assignment, her eyes keeping forward.

"Just let me handle the front-line, and don't get yourselves hurt" She Spoke again in her pride, taking the initiative. It was simply what she was used to, she had meant no harm in her stalwart up-front manner of presenting herself.