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paixaorpg2010-11-04 11:40 pm
chingdomkye.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2010-11-04 11:40 pm
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
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.