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chingdomkye.livejournal.com) wrote in
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
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.