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paixaorpg2010-11-04 11:40 pm
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Something Wicked [Active, Open]
Character(s): Vanitas and anyone who meets up with him.
Content: Vanitas enters Paixao. This can't be good.
Setting: Vanaheim gate
Time: Week 26, Mid-day.
Warnings: It's Vanitas.
Vanitas could see the light even through his eyelids. The pain had ebbed, and he felt as strong as ever. He opened his eyes, seeing neither all-encompassing light nor the darkness of Ven’s heart.
With a kick back, Vanitas got to his hands and dramatically swung around to his feet. The glass of his helm slowly restored itself as he looked around. Ghostly white grass waved in the distance on one side while a giant complex loomed in another. That direction, however, sported a line of people waiting to get in. Thinking little about it, he sauntered his way over to the front of the line.
“Sorry, you have to wait your t--”
“I’m making it my turn.” Vanitas swiped the electronic journal from the guard’s hand and turned to go in.
The guard, however, had other ideas, and stepped in front of the masked boy. He didn’t need to say a word, since the ones in line spoke for him.
“Hey, whadya think yer doin’?”
“Return to your position in line!”
“I wan’ mah turn! Mama’s gotta be in dere!”
As the people in line began to protest, Vanitas summoned his Keyblade, leapt back, and shot black lightning from his Keyblade towards the line. Some dodged, others outright fled, and many screamed.
“Like I care.” Vanitas continued on inside like he hadn’t been stopped at all.
Content: Vanitas enters Paixao. This can't be good.
Setting: Vanaheim gate
Time: Week 26, Mid-day.
Warnings: It's Vanitas.
Vanitas could see the light even through his eyelids. The pain had ebbed, and he felt as strong as ever. He opened his eyes, seeing neither all-encompassing light nor the darkness of Ven’s heart.
With a kick back, Vanitas got to his hands and dramatically swung around to his feet. The glass of his helm slowly restored itself as he looked around. Ghostly white grass waved in the distance on one side while a giant complex loomed in another. That direction, however, sported a line of people waiting to get in. Thinking little about it, he sauntered his way over to the front of the line.
“Sorry, you have to wait your t--”
“I’m making it my turn.” Vanitas swiped the electronic journal from the guard’s hand and turned to go in.
The guard, however, had other ideas, and stepped in front of the masked boy. He didn’t need to say a word, since the ones in line spoke for him.
“Hey, whadya think yer doin’?”
“Return to your position in line!”
“I wan’ mah turn! Mama’s gotta be in dere!”
As the people in line began to protest, Vanitas summoned his Keyblade, leapt back, and shot black lightning from his Keyblade towards the line. Some dodged, others outright fled, and many screamed.
“Like I care.” Vanitas continued on inside like he hadn’t been stopped at all.
no subject
He was, of course, careful to set his portal so that it came out in a side alley instead of the street itself. There was no need to worry the people any further than they already were. Besides, even if he wasn't bothering with his usual disguise this time, such an inexpertly applied use of fear and terror wasn't his style. Yes, they were useful, but they were better wielded with nigh surgical precision and not the broad, sweeping strokes that this visitor was using.
Fortunately enough, the hood of cloak hid his face as he stepped out into the street proper, letting the portal slide shut behind him. Not surprisingly, what little crowd there was left parted willing for him - everyone know what that dark cloak meant, even if the man himself was thus far an unknown.
"You should care, perhaps."
no subject
Dressed in a black turtle-neck with corduroy pants and polished shoes, he moves casually through the area. And he just so happened to pass by the gates as a surge in darkness caught his attention. "Oh? Now what have we here..?" He cocked a brow and moved in to investigate.
Lo and behold, the most preposterously dressed fool had forced his way through the gate with the use of magic. A corner of his lips briefly pulled back in slight disgust concerning the gaudy suit--showing his own vanity--but as it were, he spotted one of his own. Recognizing the voice and stature of the cloaked one, he approached The Fool and The Magician.
"Now, now, don't be so hasty. You've already condemned us to this crowded prison, you would deign strip us of our amusement, as well?" He rolled a wrist in an almost dismissive manner before letting both arms fold loosely across his chest, Luxord's voice as accusing as it was demanding. The act of the pot calling the kettle black never seemed to grow old for him.
Sorry... Man, he just won't DO anything more!
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"I could say much the same about yours." As he recalled, Vexen's replica had been wearing it in that memory he preferred not to dwell on, although the shock of its initial viewing had long since worn off. One of the more fortunate side effects of his current state, he assumed. One couldn't be truly bothered without a heart, even with something as mentally distressing as he'd seen. But that was the past(future). This was hardly the time to be wool-gathering.
"Are you not already finding what lies beyond this gilded cage?" Zexion asked, keeping his voice comparatively neutral for the time being. "Or have I heard wrong about the expeditions to the places beyond these domes?"
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He couldn't help but wonder just where Zexion had seen such an outfit before, but that detail was filed away to be addressed later. For now, his focus seemed to meander to the sixth member, a huff of a cynical laugh rumbling from his broad chest.
"Informed as ever." A corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk as he challenged the other's placid tone with his quips. "Regardless, it's bad manners to taunt your guests, especially those just being dealt in. I will, however, award points for the ability to compliment such a hideous attire."
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If there was one thing this guy shared with his Master, it was the ability to take simple statements and make them tedious and boring. "That's news," he commented, regardless that he wasn't being spoken to. So what if this place was a prison. He never found himself in any situation he couldn't force his way out of.
They could insult him all they wanted. Vanitas didn't care. If they kept it up, there was no point in keeping them around. The Master never would have to know what happened to this flunky and his friend.
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"I'm not unfamiliar with him." Or to be more precise, he knew a man who preferred to style himself 'The Master', but if he was from any sort of world where their cloaks were known he'd eat his Lexicon. But it would serve quite well for misdirection.
"I find it's always better to be polite," he commented to Luxord, drawing his posture up into one of mild indignation. "As a matter of fact I would have expected a man of your stature to understand such a triviality. It would hardly do to offend our latest guest."
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"But of course." Another low chuckle came from him as the Schemer patronized him, taking the comments in stride. "Now, now. Surely, one so perceptive as yourself should be as aware as I that your new patron isn't in the least phased by such frivolous jests. But if you insist..
"Welcome, esteemed guest, to the specious grandiose of Paixao." His arm unhinged from his chest, sweeping towards this ramshackle portion of the city in a dramatic manner as he graciously bowed at the waist. Likewise, his voice took on an almost mocking tone of grandeur while properly welcoming the oddball.
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The boy in the mask sounded about as excited over the welcome as a 7-year-old in math class. It also seemed about as "Yeah. Who are you." His head turned to face the other as well. "Both of you." His tone was as much a command as anything else. If these idiots were serving his Master like Braig, a lightbulb held more power over him than they did.
no subject
But he was hardly going to let a simple distaste for the situation keep him from seeing it through. It would have been a cowards way out, and so he kept his voice neutral as he answered, with a slight shrug.
"We could be no one of importance. Or we could be the most important people you'll meet during your stay here in this city of winding ways. I'm afraid you'll need to discover the proper answer for yourself."
Assuming he even could.
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He was curious. What hand had the fates dealt him now? Luxord pondered briefly, re-arranging the cards in his hand to see what could be played to his advantage, and what must be cast out. Even this early in the game, the stakes were already much higher than one very well might care to admit.
"See where a spot of chivalry gets you, these days? A lot of demands." His head tipped a bit, one hand coming up to rub at his chin with an amused expression. "Always the enigma though, I see.." It didn't take him long to ponder his next move. This character seemed too impatient to bother with any word games for long. It was his turn, now, and the banter between them wasn't quite enough to keep him interested enough to deal with their word games.
"Though, more than the mere names of the humble patrons of Paixao rely on which conclusions you come to. Your decisions, or perhaps even your own identity may very well open new doors--perhaps even to your freedom, as they do say this entire island is but a room in a castle." Luxord felt it was high time to up the ante, as close to the reveal as it was coming.
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Luxord's words rose a few questions in Vanitas's mind, but he wasn't curious enough to ask them. At least, not yet. For all he knew or cared, they were just trying to speak in riddles. "'Who are you,' isn't always just a name, idiot. ...And if that was some kind of way to ask who I am, you're doing a pretty pathetic job of opening me up."
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"I see no reason I need to give that to you," he answered, voice thick with condescension.
If valid proof of his worthiness were offered, Zexion would be willing to consider it, but not before then.
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"Rest assured, mate. If I wanted your name, I'd get it. These walls have ears. But, I'll be so kind as to cut out the middle man for you this time, and inform you that my name is Emlen." For once, Luxord gave his opponent clues as to precisely what his cryptic statement mean, though it'd take the use of process of elimination.
He chuckled at Zexion's haughtiness. Perhaps their new guest had pushed a bit too hard with the Schemer--to ever get even a half answer from him, one had to take the most tedious and indirect route. "Come now, surely, our masked marauder could make quite a bit of use of any information either of us could contribute. Of course, that would require you be a bit direct for once." Why yes, Luxord did just insult Vanitas, but could anyone prove it? No.~
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That didn't mean he had any more respect for him. He wasn't answering many questions either.
So he stood there as casually as ever. He in fact took up a contrapposto stance as if to balance the weight of the Keyblade he summoned in a flash of cold-looking flames.
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Would that make the Keyblade correspondingly aligned with the darkness, he wondered. Or would it act as a true Keyblade would?
It was a question that would have to wait until later. For the time being he simply stood, the perfect picture of a thoroughly unimpressed man. He didn't even bother summoning up his own weapon. He had no need to yet, and to do so would be to shatter the image he was cultivating - that of someone who had no fear of Vanitas and saw no reason to fear him.
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But ah, now when he summoned that keyblade, that was certainly an interesting development. It would seem, though, that these blades were a dime-a-dozen these days. He pondered what would happen if he mentioned that to this newcomer..No. Not yet. A sporting event.~
He watched the two with such interest, he just had to wonder, just what would come to pass? Would Zexion call this boy's bluff, or would he really come at the Schemer? He always did love a good moment's suspense, adrenaline running high as everyone waited to see what the next moment would bring. He dare not run his mouth and ruin such a riveting moment.~
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But if the Master wanted him to do something, he would know it was better to be direct with Vanitas. In fact, they hadn't given him any reason to do anything at all, so if Master wanted something, he'd have to try again.
And suddenly, a Dark Corridor appeared in front of them. Not even caring enough to say a word, he simply walked into the portal of darkness. He left it open. If the had any compulsion to follow him like little lost puppies, they could. If not, at least he could find something more interesting.
But what met his eyes inside wasn't quite what he expected. The area seemed to stretch forever, vanishing from darkness into absolute black. He shrugged, beginning to walk the path. But even as the opening behind him began to shrink, there was no exit he could see.
Several minutes later, the masked boy re-emerged from the portal, facing the cloaked one.
"Nice little trick." There was an air of amusement. "So if Master's willing to send people to play games with me, what's he want?"
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Of course, neither was he surprised to find him returning shortly after he'd left. Why would they have made a city that was so simple to get out of? It would only lead to a slow trickle of people leaving by way of the corridors, and the worlds beyond this one could hardly hold more immigrants. The corridors wouldn't be enough to return people to their proper homes.
"We're hardly the ones to accuse of playing games."
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He merely chuckled lowly as the youth returned and had a nice little quip to greet them with. "I have to say the same thing about yourself, boy." He waved a hand idly towards Zexion. "Now, now, you can speak for yourself. I rather enjoy a good game." Oh, that subtle sickly-sweet tone of voice mingled with the present confident charisma. "And so it would seem, our enigmatic hosts rather enjoy stringing their tenants along in elaborate schemes. You may have more luck upon re-wording your questions."
...He wouldn't. But their new visitor didn't know that, now, did he? It would be quite interesting to see what direction the conversation would take after he directly contradicted Zexion's claims.
*Checked with Erika*
And actions always did speak deafeningly louder than words.
"You like games, Emlen?" He looked to the cloaked man about half a second before his free hand shot towards his throat. He was too short to actually lift him more than an inch or two off the ground, but lift him he did. Vanitas looked back to the one whose face he could see."How 'bout we raise the stakes. What comes first? Straight answers or this idiot's death. 'Cause he ain't gonna last too long, I bet."
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Nor does he think for a change. His thoughts are frantically running around his mind and so he does the next best thing. He reacts; he still has his strength.
The attack isn't physical. He has no weapons that are physically capable of crossing the distance and he can't think straight enough to both summon his Lexicon and change its form anyway. Instead, he opts for something quick and dirty and reflexive. A blast of illusionary pain, every bit as real as Vanita's mind makes it - and he's quite sure he would have no reason not to as invisible claws stab into his chest; his heart. The last bastion of any thinking being's self no matter what it was.
O: Oh snap.
"A challenge, is it? Then I accept. If you manage to keep a hold on this gentleman, then I'll answer any question you present me with." Lapis lazuli eyes flickered to Zexion with a placid, but keenly aware expression upon his face. Of course, Luxord would act if need be, but he was very well aware that Zexion was more than capable of defending himself in such situations.
"Though, since you're new to the table, I'll take it upon myself to inform you that the key to success lies not always in chance, but it relies on how you play the cards you've been dealt." Just in case, though, should things get out of hand, Luxord would be quick to respond and defend his comrade.
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PAIN.
PAIN PIERCING THE CHEST. HOW. IT HAS TO BE HIM. OR EITHER ONE. DOESN'T MATTER. HE'S WORTHLESS ANYWAY. Vanitas's shoulders literally shook with pain, but his pride remained as steadfast as ever. His grip changed, however. It grew tighter to show his resolve, not caring if any damage should come to that man's throat. Vanitas still held his Keyblade, ready for whatever tricks were thrown at him.
"Idiot," he commented to Emlen with heavy breaths, not averting his gaze from the hooded man. There was almost a laugh in his pained tone. "You forget there are actual players to contend with." He tried to hold Zexion even higher, but that lasted about a second. His chest was spasming from the pain.
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But he'd noticed the way his shoulders shook with pain; the way his chest heaved. He'd scored a hit, with his last blow. A very palpable hit, and that alone meant he had a chance - he would have smiled with the thought, had it not been for the demands of his body that it give it the air it couldn't get.
But he'd never needed air to fight. He had his mind, and he had his powers and that was all he needed, as he viciously jammed another blast of pain into Vanita's mind. Claws come again clenching at his heart, ripping and tearing at that most vital of organs. Let him survive that pain twice over, if he could.
Oh man, it's gettin real, y'all. O:
Luxord weighed his options. What was more important in the long-run, keeping his own identity as a nobody secret, or guaranteeing the safety of a comrade?
Suppose he called the lad's bluff and merely watched, waiting for Zexion to free himself. Though both nobodies present knew Zexion was more than capable of taking care of himself, he noted the frantic way with which the Schemer struggled. Such shows of whispers of emotions long gone were unusual. Now, weighing that in on his options, he considered doing nothing. Zexion would free himself, most likely, and knowing that Luxord's jugement was typically sound and made after careful deliberation. Chances weigh in favor of Zexion paying no mind to the matter and addressing it in an adult matter, understanding that having members capable of moving freely through the city and communicating with various guests was important, and that the Gambler would have gone to the defense if his skills of probability lead him to believe Zexion was in any sort of real danger. The chances that Zexion would harbor any resentment for seeing the Schemer in a more..frantic and uncontrolled state were low given Zexion was the most devout in their beliefs of lacking emotion, but still very real. He couldn't make those kinds of enemies, nor would he suffer charges of insubordination or possible treason by letting an elder possibly fade.
On the other hand, suppose he did go on the defensive, and utilized his cards, using blunt-force trauma to a vital point, or even the tendons in his wrist, to force him to let go. This brat was smart, and would realize that there were dark forces at work. He'd be called out. And surely, this kid would know that he was purposely trying to conceal his identity for a reason, thus attempt to hold it over his head or even spread the news without realizing(or perhaps even fully understanding) just what it was he was doing. But there were always ways around such things.
He huffed out an amused grunt as the boy forced himself to continue, fighting through the pain. Pain he couldn't begin to fathom. He rather enjoyed watching Zexion consume his opponent's minds, as well, wondering to himself how long it would take before he succumbed. "I could say the exact same thing to you. There's a reason I pick and choose with whom I play my games, and from the looks of it mate, I'd say you understand perfectly well why I don't press my luck too far with this lot."
He'd wait for a few more moments, to see if Zexion could take him out this time. After all, they were called Organization XIII, not Nursery School XIII. Each of the nobodies were forces to be reckoned with in their own rights--he was sure the elder would be able to handle himself. He need not babysit him, and jumping in oh so soon might even be considered an insult to Six's skills. On the off chance that he wasn't, then he would step in and put an end to the physical confrontation.
Ah, but what is reality when Zexion is around?
"Sounds- Like you're- Missing out. Here, lemme- Deal you a card." And with as much strength as he could muster -- still nothing to scoff at -- Vanitas threw the cloaked man at Emlen. Given the proximity, Vanitas was sure that would make contact.
And as his legs began to falter, he promptly vanished.
[OOC: This isn't over yet!]
Whatever he wants it to be really
Even so, it was a near thing. Quick, brutal, and dirty, but it was a portal, for all that it was inches in front of Luxord's face, darkness swallowing him up and then vanishing.
Several moments later, a similar portal opened up near Luxord and Zexion stepping. Breathing hard, yes, and more than likely bruised, but on his feet once again. This time, he wouldn't let himself be caught off guard, and to that end he was already mentally readying a few (highly important) spells.
>: Oh, your way or the highway, huh Zex? I see how it is.
He resumed his position, glancing down to the youngest of the founding members after he reappeared, defensive at first, not sure who would come out, though he figured only his comrade dare come so close. This boy was cocky..more than a Gambler's intuition told him that boy would be back to strike again and get revenge for being fended off.
"He'll either come in close or go for a ranged attack." His shoulders shifted and his head tipped, loosening the muscles there as he spoke quickly and lowly to the recovering elder; he didn't know how much time he had to relay his strategies. No matter the situation though, that agitated sneer went to quite the exuberant grin. "Either way, stay beside me until I counter, at least. From there, of course, it'll be simple to read and play off of one another."
The second he felt another flux in darkness, Luxord would react. If that flux was close, he'd summon cards from the ground, angling them outwards at an appropriate angle. They'd emerge from the ground in an alarming speed, the angle sharpening to make every attempt to throw the the boy in the air, or at least disarm him. If the flux was too far for a star-burst of cards to reach, then he'd raise a high wall of cards for a brief moment. Those would raise at the same speed as the starburst as well if the boy was stupid enough to charge from any distance. If he came in with more magic, he'd have to alter his strategy, summoning a ribbon of cards, a half-story tall at an appropriate angle.
Oh yes, Luxord's forte was defense, but even his clever defenses weren't impervious. That wasn't to say, though, that Luxord couldn't go with the flow of the cards. He'd make due with any hand dealt to him and his partner.
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Come in close Vanitas certainly did decide to, but he made little attempt to hide he was coming. His dark form leapt from where he'd vanished to: the balcony of a tall building. He didn't land on his feet, but rather, sank into the ground, indicated only by an electric cloud of red and black energy. The creeping storm suddenly rushed towards the seemingly unarmed Luxord.
The electric dark fog simply slides under any defense Luxord puts up. As it slides under him, a wide column of fire wrapped in darkness shoots from the ground. So does the broad spinning sweep of his Keyblade as he launches himself into the air. Even in the unlikely event it didn't connect, he opts out of a second strike and launches at least a half dozen orb-like fireballs to rain down onto the ground.
"I don't care about your rules."
no subject
"So I've noticed," he commented, his tone one of disinterest.
But he'd stay true to Luxord's words. He would wait to see what the reaction would be. To jump straight into defending Luxord would suggest that he cared about Luxord's well-being. That it would hurt him to see him attacked and that was the farthest from the truth. And besides, it might give him another moment to see what Vanitas' attack style was.
no subject
He watched the youth run at him, and he held off on raising a wall of cards to hinder the youth's attack. And it was a good thing that he did, for that little black cloud slid under the circular wall of cards he summoned. His lips briefly peeled back into a sneer, but it was quickly replaced with something highly amused. "Clever little chap, aren't you?" His reaction to the first sight of that black cloud was quick. He did, after all, rely on evasion and defense.
And the card directly in front of him spun. The ornate back of the card faced inside of the protective circle for a brief moment, and Luxord disappeared. When again the face turned towards the inner confines, he was within the face, entirely unharmed. His head tossed to the side when his eyes locked with Zexion--unlike other captives, Luxord had the luxury of mobility within the cards--signaling that the Schemer need leave as there was nothing he could do without sacrificing the ability to deny any connections with six. The wall then quickly broke into two sections and extended into two, parallel walls facing one another before they rapidly filed away. Each portion of the wall made a wide semi-circle around the pillar of fire, about six yards, before coming together in a compact circle to safely deposit the Gambler a ways away from the eye of the storm.
Noting points of light in his peripheral vision, he glanced up and noticed there were fireballs. Fireballs raining down. He'd managed to avoid the initial attack, and it wouldn't be hard to avoid the raining balls of fire as long as he wasn't forced into one of the summoned meteorites of fire's range of destruction.
Things were getting interesting--despite the situation, the Gambler would always find amusement. A fight, a test of will, of wit, of strength and cunning against a formidable adversary was the best game of all. Nothing trumped that thrill.
no subject
For the meantime however, he let the darkness swallow him up once again and deposit him well outside what looked like the effective range of anything Vanitas might have had in mind. He might not have been needed in the fight, but he'd be damned if he was going to let any opportunity to learn more slip out of his grasp.
no subject
Still, that strange agony was definitely very different than these card tricks. The likelihood that these were the fortes of two separate people was likely.
And that Pain vanished in a cloud of darkness. So he did know that trick. Then where did he go?
It wasn’t hard to find him a distance away. Darkness attracts darkness. The portal released the cloaked man, and Vanitas noted his location. There was no way he’d let himself be ambushed.
Maybe if he didn’t want to play, Vanitas would insist he did.
With that distance, Vanitas decided to launch a barrage of cold blue darts at Luxord. Where they struck ice crystals formed.
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He payed a moment's attention to the Schemer after the cards parted to line up side-by-side behind him, but as soon as he caught sight of where he was, his focus was back on the boy who had charged at him. Lapis lazuli eyes narrowed in consideration, contemplating the move he should soon make. Dodging the barrage would be simple for him, of course, but Luxord liked a challenge. It would be too easy to hide in his cards and counter whenever he should happen to wander too close, or sneak in a surprise attack until he wore the boy out or he grew frustrated and grew reckless, but he wondered whether or not he should reveal that attacking a blank face would destroy the card.
Luxord did, after all, learn that he could duck underground and attack in a number of ways--Lexaeus could take notes. Well. So be it. He'd give the boy this advantage. He'd reveal one of the cards in his hands by means of dismissing it to the discard pile. He'd soon find out if this boy knew how to count cards.~
The wall of cards behind him parted, splitting into two rows of five. As Luxord stood entirely still, one arm braced across his waist casually, the palm holding the adjacent elbow so that his free hand could rest thoughtfully upon his chin, the isles of cards parted after they streamed in front of him, the two lines overlapping in the middle, one line behind the other with two odd cards sticking out on either end to extend his barricade. The front row was smashed with whatever icicles hit those, the afflicted cards simply vanishing after impact. What icicles were still coming for him after the first line of defense was broken were stopped by the second row--in all, two cards were left out of ten after the attack, and the patches of ground where said destroyed cards were had frozen over.
Those remaining cards vanished without reason, they weren't hit by anything. Instead, Luxord raised the hand from his chin to give it a flick, a hand of five, regulation-sized cards appearing in his hand. Of course, as he did this, he was ever attentive that said wall did leave him temporarily blind. He'd have to quickly spot the kid and ready his defense. He had no doubt in the youth's speed..he'd have little time to react appropriately, and might just make a mistake.
Luxord called the child's bluff this time,
stopping him coldand his hand came out victorious. His chips were up even if only slightly, but a new hand was being dealt, and the players were familiarizing their selves with the other's poker faces, still. Right now, it was all up to the chance of the draw and how quickly they could learn to manipulate one another into certain reactions.As always, whether anything is successful is up to you guys
Even as Vanitas moved, it was easy to see the product of his assault. Cards had met their doom as they were used to protect Emlen. They were mere shields. Pawns. Take them all out and he'd briefly be unprotected. But for how long? Who knew? But it would be fun to find out.
Vanitas braced himself and launched a single huge fiery orb that began to home in on Emlen. If any block were made, it would split into the smaller orbs like before, yet continue to seek out their target. Just after he charged forward, remaining just behind the fireball.
In this aggressive way the masked boy waited. If another wall came up, he could easily sink into the ground and duck under it just as fast as he could run. And then Emlen would be vulnerable. Vanitas smirked.
Not far away, a Buckle Bruiser appeared behind the cloaked man. In a flash it grabbed for him!
no subject
In the mean time, though, he had to focus on but the magical attack and the boy's whereabouts. To dispatch the fireball, he'd summon a regulation sized card and, with a sweep of his wrist, send it flying for the fireball. Upon impact, rather than the card disappearing, however, it split into a trio of annoyances. Oh and look, coming in just behind the fireball was the angry hornet, himself.
Luxord moved backwards, only a step or two, though. As he did this, large cards rose right in front of the three smaller fireballs just long enough after the split to be able to separate the cards. He couldn't have the shields blocking his view in a time like this. In fact, he was prepared for a counter-strike, even, that hand of five cards arching in the air, jumping over to his left palm. There was a smirk on his face as the cards arched in mid-air for his right hand once more, save this time, they floated just above the palm, a facade, a farce, a challenge to the helmeted lad.
He looked ready as the boy drew closer, closer, mere feet away. But anyone who knew the Gambler well enough would know he rarely opted for outright, obvious, and predictable counter-strikes. This boy was terribly fast though, and he wasn't able to summon his cards quick enough to disappear into their confines, thus he was left open to take a blow from the keyblade. Luxord nearly lost his balance entirely, and was almost thrown to the ground--if he'd been of a smaller stature or hadn't seemingly braced himself for something, he would be on the ground right now. With the wind in his lungs escaping with a harsh grunt, he caught his weight on one bent leg, neglecting to give into the automatic want to cradle the wound.
Instead, he'd summon a card and use said bent leg to move for the spinning card, disappearing into the face. It would multiply, creating three copies of itself with the backs all facing the helmeted boy. The cards would file quickly around behind the lad and turn so all the faces were towards him now. From one of the cards, Luxord would reach out, a ribbon of five, razor-edged cards with the consistency of steel arching from his down-turned palms to make every attempt to slice through both the armor and flesh of his back--or..whatever was currently facing him when he darted out.
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From there, it was a simple matter to use the brief time allotted in that moment of hesitation to slip harmlessly out of the thing's reach, turning as he did so as to get a proper look at it, taking into account both the form (slow, no doubt easy to evade) as well as the colorations. A creature of the dark, if none that he recognized. But dark would bow to greater darkness. It was, of course, a risk, to try this on an unknown creature, but no matter. If it proved disobedient, it would die.
And should it yield to his will, it would be all the more sweet for it. To see their foe attacked by the very being he had summoned? Oh yes, that would be a prize beyond anything else to come of this fight thus far. So instead of calling up another spell to throw at the creature, he drew himself up to his full (if not impressive) height, drew his darkness to himself, and let a simple command run down that same darkness to 'speak' to his would be attacker. Obey. A simple word, but laced with undertones that to do otherwise would prove most uncomfortable.
/fail
But his feeble target then simply vanished behind one of the cards. Nice little trick. More cards appeared, and the fight became a pathetic little cup game. ...One of the easiest ways to tell which cup held the prize was to see which cup was the hardest to crush. And so Vanitas commenced ravaging the cards with a flurry of slashes.
But not even this technique was fast enough for the sheer number of cards. He grunted in pain as something began slicing through his side. Out of sheer instinct he lashed out in the direction of his assailant before simply vanishing.
A keen eye would find him about thirty feet away at the top of some stairs leading to a building. His Keyblade was lowered as he looked down upon the area.
Had Vanitas known what the cloaked man tried to do to the lone Unversed he’d sent, he’d have cackled. The Buckle Bruiser, just like any Unversed, was a fledgling emotion, fresh and impulsive, and also locked into that single feeling. Sheer rancor was not one to shrink or bend to fear. In fact, the Unversed couldn’t even comprehend another emotion. It was a simple word that was spoken to the creature. But the threat behind the undertones did nothing more than make it loathe its opponent even more. Though not the fastest of Unversed, that didn’t mean some attacks couldn’t come swiftly. With its thick arms it flung a buckler from its fist towards the cloaked man.
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And the proof was in the cards. His counterstrike was successful, but lo! This lad came at him with another attack just as he was going to add insult to injury. Another ribbon of cards collided with the keyblade, sparks flying from the impact and grind of metal to metal. He was going to summon a second string of cards with his other hand, but after the collision, the boy vanished into thin air. As it was nothing he wasn't used to, and he didn't see the boy anywhere close-by, the cards he hid in dropped to the ground.
He'd spot the boy after a few moments and stare back at him, dismissing his hands of cards with a casual whirl of his wrist. Oh, now, was he folding so soon? He rather liked the challenge, too..
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Still, he hadn't quite been expecting the thing to throw it's shield, and it was only his quick reflexes that let him dodge out of the way in time, as the shield went sailing past his ear. Any nearer and he'd have been left with more than just a clipped ear, and that alone told him that for all that it was a 'lesser' strain it wouldn't do to underestimate this foe. A brief moment of consideration and to a step and then a glide to the left. He wasn't sure if the shield would return to the creature, but either way he had no further intention of staying there.
It was only once he was out of what he deemed the strike range of the returning shield that he summoned up a weapon of his own. It wasn't his Lexicon though - not for this. Instead, he took a hint from both what he was fighting and the fourth of their Organization and called up a shield of his own, tall and blue and thorny and nothing at all like Vexen's primary shield. Close enough, perhaps, for Luxord to recognize what it could have been, but beyond that? It was nothing more than a shield, as Zexion gestured, and called up a spire of ice beneath the Unversed.
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"Not bad. So you actually can do something other than dress fancy. Now that I know you're not a total waste, I'll save you for later. Hard to tell if this city'll be interesting. If not... At least I've got some new toys." However, he didn't vanish. Not yet at least. Instead he waited a moment, seeing what Emlen might do.
Meanwhile, the shield did indeed return like a boomerang to the Unversed. Its massive body had tensed up, ready to attack, when a spire of ice sent it flying, despite its size. However, that did nothing for it's hatred of it's opponent, and it lunged with astonishing speed. Hundreds of pounds of dark energy were being flung at the smaller-statured man.
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He huffed with a rumble of an amused laugh. "I'll look forwards to our next rendezvous provided that's more than a mere bluff, lad."
The alternate point of darkness caught his attention now that this armored attacker wasn't coming at him. He looked over to the source, the ledge Zexion was on, facing his opponent. Knowing the Schemer would be able to handle it, it was a brief moment before he looked back towards the boy.
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But neither did he turn from the creature in front of him. The darkness told him where the masked boy was well enough, and it wasn't like he was actively serving as threat right now. Luxord had him well in hand, and that left him quite free to deal with the creature's (ridiculously obvious) attack. True, it did have some speed to it, but that didn't matter.
Once again, he sidestepped the attack, laying behind a thin slick of ice as he did so. Something moving at that sort of speed was unlikely to be able to keep its footing somewhere where the traction had been removed, and regardless of whether or not it skidded out of control over the ice path it would only find itself running head-first into another barrage of ice spires.
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And with that, Vanitas suddenly stood very still before simply vanishing. No corridor of darkness had appeared. No portal had been around. Though certainly darkness was used, he was simply gone, having teleported away.
And had it not been for the "friend" he brought, the area would have fallen silent.
The creature indeed skidded, but this time it could see what was coming at it with its red, oddly-shaped eyes. On impulse it raised its shields and huddled as best as it could. Much like a large body it absorbed a chunk of the damage in its stomach. The shields shattered many of the spires, but it didn't go unscathed. Scrambling, it got to its feet and threw its massive body at the cloaked man.