paixaorpg | At the gates of Niflheim [open]

Entry tags:

At the gates of Niflheim [open]

Character(s): Sephiroth, all.
Content: Entering through the Niflheim gates.
Setting: Niflheim
Time: Morning.
Warnings: N/A

There it was! At last, the opening he had been looking for. A surging, urgeful power enveloped him, tore him from all he had come to know, and suddenly - in what seemed like either years or seconds, the pain of life, of spirit, of being washed over him from all sides.

He was still for a long moment, crouched as he was on terra firma, savouring with luxurious slowness the first inhalation. He could taste the air around him, taste its promise and its life. Inwardly he allowed himself the brief vulnerability to rejoice, before straightening with an easeless grace, the material of his long coat creaking as its folds realigned as he stood. His head still cast down, eyes shut with the delicate lashes resting against his cheeks, he adjusted himself to the sounds of this new world - still sightless.

Vaguely, murmuring ahead of him. A congregation of people, muted as though subdued by some kind of protocol. Behind him only the whisper of flora, the breath of the wind. Finally, his skin prickling all over with sensation - sensation, such like he hadn't experienced for the longest time - he opened his eyes.

At once his pupils adjusted to the light, and he could feel every tiny movement of body and sinew as though it had been a manual effort to do so. Ahead of him was a great gate of shimmering silver ice, towering above an orderly mass of people passing under it. It was a sight to behold even for such a person as had not 'seen' for a long time.

Sephiroth steeled himself, still marvelling inwardly at the muscles tensed to do his mind's bidding as though it were nothing short of a miracle, and strode with long, careless strides towards the gate. His eyes registered that there was a queue of sorts, as though of a well-structured system of entrance to what he presumed to be a city. However, such things had never applied to him in the past; the functions of human society was but an observation spectacle, not something that intruded upon the life he had built for himself out of blood and ashes.

Striding past, he heard a couple of disgruntled murmurs and paid them no heed. His sword swung lazily from side to side as he walked, its horizontal resting position clearing people from his path in a wide berth. There was no need of it today. Today he was become everything he had been born for - today he was God. And it so happened that he was feeling gracious with the populace of this... This new and exciting world that he had forged a path to using the very Lifestream, that ethereal flow that powered the Wheel of Life.

However, this euphoria did not permeate the crowd gathered patiently behind him as he strode past decisively. The quiet, disgruntled murmurs turned to angry mutters, and these spawned and bred into a unified rabble of complaint as he neared the towering ice gates. He could feel the cold air radiating from them, these primeval monoliths, as a rather short and squat man stepped into his path.

"May I ask your name?" The stubby man questioned in a polite voice, his eyes nervously darting behind Sephiroth to the congregation of impatient people. Sephiroth inclined his head slightly towards the man in a gracious fashion. "No." Came the simple reply. His mind was buzzing, he was too full of burning, consuming life to engage in idle conversation. The man faltered, unsure of what to say next. "I see.. Very well.." He stammered.

A taller, more powerfully built younger man came forward from the crowd. "Hey, how come he gets to skip the queue?" the angry demand came. The short information booth clerk shrugged helplessly at the younger man, willing him to not cause trouble. But the silver-haired man had already swept on past, his coat billowing behind his powerful strides. As he walked through the towering gates, a small silver device was thrust into his hand by an over-zealous bystander. Rage suddenly flashed through his mind, and he envisaged drawing his sword and running her through then and there for interrupting the flow of his thoughts, but just as quickly as it came the anger vanished. Placidity flooded his mind once more, and he merely inclined his head again in a gracious acknowledgement, and walked onwards beyond the gates.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Al's face closely mimicked that of an animal staring into the jaws of a predator as he took in his surroundings. Where is this? Who are all these people? Why am I here? Why do I feel so different?

Where's Brother?

All of these questions and more ran through his head one after the other, each as unanswerable as the last. A quick glance around at several other confused faces confirmed that no one expected to be here. And this...This was not Resembool. The ethereal city that stood before him, behind the glistening gates that towered above this ragtag group gathered before it, was larger than any place he'd ever seen before. Al had only once left the small rural locale of Resembool, and even then Dublith wasn't so large. This, however, was tremendous.

He had last been in the basement with Brother, preparing to transmute Mother back to normal. Had...something gone wrong? Were their calculations incorrect? Was it the theory? No, no--Now wasn't the time to worry about that. Something in it must have brought him here, but...

Where's Brother?

Al's eyes scanned the crowd, and he began to push through and around them in hopes of catching sight of his Brother's blonde hair. It was strange--had he always been this tall?

His thorough search found nothing, nothing but a few odd characters (Where are that guy's clothes? Why are they carrying weapons?), and Al resigned himself to waiting in line. Maybe Brother would be inside. Maybe someone would have answers.

What the fuck?

Larxene stood at the front of the gates to Niflheim, the line of people standing in front of it making her frown. A bunch of idiots. All of them. She began to point at each one, naming them as she did so.

"...Idiot... Moron... Dipstick... Stupid..." she droned, smirking to herself when she had finished "naming" everyone in line.

She was pessimistic like that sometimes.

This place was new to her, and she longed to see why so many people were flocking to this place. Her weight was shifted to her left foot before the peeked out to the side to view what was before her. A few people stood ahead of her in the massive line, chattering so much it made her want to kill each and every one of them. Her fingers twitched when the gate opened. Finally.

She fingered the dark square-shaped box that was in her hands absently as she stared at it in different angles. She shook it lightly, hearing something tiny rattle inside it.

"Alright! I'm opening it."

Her hands fondled the thing, touching it everywhere she could, looking for a way to open it. Her finger finally touched a magic spot where a part of it dipped in, and the top opened. A journal. Complete with a map, a pencil, a keyboard and various other knick-knacks. How very interesting. This thing was so totally worth enduring the line she had to wait in for an hour to obtain it. Stepping forward a bit, she realized that it was her turn to step through the large opal gate to the other side. Who knew what the hell was inside there, but she was going, that's for sure.

Things would be ever so fun.

~

It had been far, far too bright before. It was only a sliver of a crack in all the light that had provoked him to dare peek his round head from his hiding place - and then something had eaten him. Sucked him up and shit him right back out the other end, which was... was... somewhere.It had changed him too. As if the digestive juices had burned away his tough black skin and tore apart his bones, chewed his tiny body and now he was left with something different. With a taller skeleton and softer skin that wasn't quite as black as it used to be; with longer limbs and lips and eyelids and even a belly button.

He was spewed out. His new body came tumbling roughly from the field that spanned behind the gate’s entrance, his broadened mind playing catch up. He did not land on two legs, gracefully and full of abstract elegance as perhaps some others may have; he did not yet have enough wit to do so, and instead fell to the ground a few yards shy of the strange congregation awaiting admittance. He felt awkward in this body, and only managed to arrange himself in a position vaguely reminiscent of sitting – he got so far as crossing his legs before he decided that was quite enough, and simply stilled himself.

There was a lot of numbness in him, which he didn’t like because it all tingled and made his chest swell horridly with something until he could hardly bare it anymore. He parted his lips and made a noise, which startled him. What was that? Words? Had he spoken? He had a voice now?? He could speak, say the things that he thought instead of simply hum them to the shadows on the floor, could he not? Horridly bright yellow eyes widened in shock, slapping a clawed hand against his throat and feeling the vibrations as he repeated the sound.

It wasn’t quite speech, exactly, but something more along the lines of a hitching coo.

Heartless didn’t move from his prone spot on the ground, finding the thought of actually standing and walking a little daunting as he examined his new legs. Perhaps when all the numb and tingle went away, he would try. Leaning forward, he crunched dark claws against the ground, using the noise it created to distract himself from the chatter of the human line, thinking that if only he knew how to work this body properly… what he would do!

He would slash their faces.

Unfortunately, the situation was not presently in his favor, so he sat. Naked, clawing irritably at the ground, and bowed his head to peer through clumps of black hair – that was new too, hair… - at the crowd outside the gate.

There was a burst of light in pitch black as Sora and Mickey locked the Door from both sides at once.

It hurt his eyes. That didn't seem right, somehow. He wasn't Ansem. He was Riku. Himself. Again.

Wasn't he?

It was difficult to form a complete, coherent thought in the utter darkness of Kingdom Hearts. Riku felt as though he was slipping away, piece by piece.

Was he going to die now, when he'd only just become free? Had his destiny been fulfilled?

Riku had a hard time accepting that his destiny had been to come all this way just to see that a door was locked. He also refused to accept that it was time for him to die now.

Not now. Not when he'd finally been cleansed of that...there were no words for what Ansem was, nor just what he had done to Riku; the thorough extent to which that bastard had ruined his life.

And yet, he wasn't content to just give it up, now.

No way in hell.

There was another flash of light in the darkness, and Riku shielded his eyes. It seemed to go on forever.

Suddenly, he felt a gentle breeze on his skin and smelled...well, the smells of an actual world. He uncovered his eyes and opened them slowly, squinting into daylight.

Before him stood a massive gate. It looked like something straight out of End of the World or the ornate wankery of Hollow Bastion. Neither of these worlds had good memories for him, and Riku had no desire to get anywhere near something that put him in mind of them.

Moreover, there was a long line of people waiting to pass through the gates, nearly all of whom were blonde and pale-skinned. It was like watching a procession of ghosts.

...
No, I'm not dead, he told himself. I refuse to be. If this is hell, they can just come out the gates and TRY to drag me in.

He turned on his heel and strode with determination away from said gates, eager to get distance from them as quickly as possible.

And.

Nearly tripped head-long over a Heartless Shadow.

The only thing that prevented Riku from drawing the Soul Eater and taking care of the nuisance straight away was that, on taking a closer look (better known as an annoyed glare) at the creature, it didn’t...look right, somehow. It was too tall. Too human-shaped. Too...did it have hair?

Riku stared at it for a moment, sitting on the ground, hunched over and glaring like a child having a tantrum of sorts. These just weren’t Heartless traits.

And yet. It wasn’t his damn problem.

He wasn’t not killing it because he had any sort of affinity for the mutant, lost creature who looked as annoyed to be here as he was.

He was not killing it because it wasn’t worth bothering with.

Riku stepped over the not-quite-Heartless and kept going, making a beeline for a tall ruined arch that provided a good amount of shadow even at this time of day.

What had they called structures like that in history class? Triumphal arcs? Whatever. Like he’d paid attention in school.

Riku hurried toward the nearest large shadow without hurrying, eager to get out of the unforgiving direct light of day.

He would have quite readily gone on scratching at the ground until his claws wore dull, but then someone stumbled over him.

He hissed, yellow eyes widening as he startled and recovered from the abrupt collision, drawing knees up firm to his chest and throwing an accusing stare at the human who'd stepped on him. His initial thought was that he would like to slash that face too, and had a clawed hand in the air to do so, but... something was different.

The face off between them was rather short-lived. Heartless found a sudden interest in the human, because... well. He didn't really seem completely human. There was a darkness in him, and it was something that the shadow recognized and was instantly, ridiculously attracted to. Don't get that confused with romance, either. The darkness in the boy's heart was familiar, and sated Heartless's lonely hunger.

The Dark Boy stepped over him then, and left.

Yellow eyes followed the escape towards the random structure, and then he too was spurred to flee in that direction. He craved that familiar darkness he found in the boy's heart madly and what's more, it was shadowed. Perhaps the only problem that befell him was the legs he hadn't yet attempted to work.

He did that now. Without any hazard to care or delicacy, he pushed himself roughly up from the ground, leaving deep scars where he'd meticulously clawed beforehand; he stood not-quite straight for the unflattering span of a second and then wobbled. It was an awkward process, trying to move his legs at the proper speed and interval - but he seemed to be doing a decent job of it, in spite of the utterly horrid balance he kept.

He lost it right at the end, though, and fell rather than walked into the shadow cast by the broken arch. This didn't seem to deter him in the least, however; he pulled his legs up and sat with his knees near his chest, his head cocked as he stared at the human he'd followed, rubbing his leg absently and humming in his own language, still unable to pull together the sense it took to form spoken words.

His hum was a soft chatter to his own ears, which went
dark dark dark heartheartsdark dark darkness here dark...

As Riku headed for shade, he both felt and heard someone following along behind him.

The hissing chatter in a language no normal human could understand, along with the singular feel of it told him exactly what his follower was.

He felt a headache coming on.

If it had just been pursuing him to attack, that would have been one thing. But, no. There was a particular resonant tone to the feel of the Shadow and the sounds it was making.

It was following its leader.

Riku drew the Soul Eater and whirled around as he passed beneath the shadow cast by the arch, just in time to see the pathetic creature fall into the comforting shade after him. It pulled its knees up to its chest in a very human gesture and looked up at him expectantly.

"Damnit."

Riku collapsed onto a nearby crumble of stone.

He was not Ansem.
And he didn't have any Heartless treats.

Why was it following him?

He rested the sculpted flat of the blade on his knee and let out a frustrated sigh. It felt good just to hold his sword again.

He took what comfort he could from it as he looked back at the line waiting to pass through the gates, trying to ignore the usual pointless and repetitive Shadow-babble his tag-along was chittering at him.

Yeah, yeah yeah, he thought. Dark. Hearts.

He'd learned not to expect a clever satirical monologue from the Heartless, but he thought a little variety in the babble now and then wouldn't have killed them.

Kairi!

Sora!

Kairi. Remember what you said before? I'm always with you, too.
I'll come back to you. I promise!

I know you will!

Sora groaned and blinked rapidly a few times, trying to clear his mind. 'I've got to stop doing that,' he thought. ‘She's safe; I know she is. That memory won’t make things any better.’ He trudged on.

Had it been days or weeks? Whichever, it seemed to Sora as though he and his companions had been walking forever. Following Pluto had looked promising, since he did have the king’s seal in his mouth, but their effort had so far been fruitless. There was no king, no Kingdom Hearts, and no Riku.

Take care of her.

‘I promise,’ Sora told the memory of his friend. ‘If it’s the only thing I can do for you, I promise you that I will honor that wish.’

They walked on. Taking the seemingly endless road to their destination, the band of odd companions walked on. The dirt road continued far beyond the horizon, the ground hard under Sora’s feet. One steps, two steps, then nothing. Sora’s eyes widened in confusion and he looked at Donald and Goofy for answers. One glance told him they were just as confused as he was. Instead, Sora looked around.

Nothing. It was all around him. What had been there before was gone, replaced with void. Sora then felt himself being pulled…somewhere. I couldn’t tell which direction he was going, only that he was going there against his will. His speed increased, and Sora closed his eyes in anticipation.

As soon as he had done so, he landed on his own two feet.

“Whoa!” he said, the abrupt stop causing him to fall on his backside. He stood up, brushing off his shorts, which had become dirty and torn in places. Looking forward, he saw an incredible…

‘Line?’

He stood there, confused. Why was there such a huge line? What were they waiting for? A glance upward gave Sora the answer to that. A huge gate stood there, made of what seemed to be ice, with dozens…hundreds?...of people awaiting entrance. “This must be another world!” Sora mused aloud. He then knew why he was brought here. There was a seal to every world, a keyhole, and it was his duty to lock them all. Sora reached into his pocket, feeling each one of the keychains to make sure they were there, and walked on to join the end of the line.

Dias' first thought was that he had died, and that wouldn't have surprised him at all. It wouldn't even have bothered him at all, because once you were dead you were able to accept just about anything that might choose to come your way without complaint.

But the fact that he seemed to be standing, and breathing - that he was aware he was standing and breathing - effectively ruined that theory. Dead people didn't do either of those things; were renowned for it, in fact.

And there were voices.

He opened his eyes without any actual expectations of what it was he would see, and he was still taken by surprise.

He was standing in the shadow of a gate, massive and imposing. It was obviously some sort of metal, but crafted skillfully to look like ice, the jagged icicles giving it an appearance that was neither comforting nor inviting from where Dias was standing. The gate suggested the experience of walking through it would be immediately followed by the experience of walking headlong into a universe of razor blades.

And despite this...there was a line. Who the hell would line up to walk through a gate that looked like that?

Once Dias had processed his surroundings, he turned his attention back to himself. Everything seemed normal...he wasn't injured, and his sword was still hanging in its sheath at his side. He rested one hand reassuringly on the hilt before he went back to surveying the surroundings that he had privately labeled, for the moment, Not Expel, because he had travelled the length and breadth of his world and never seen a place like this.

Of brief interest to him was a silver-haired boy, being trailed (apparently to the boy's annoyance) by a small...person, he decided charitably...that moved and, in several vague ways, looked like the monsters that had charged the Lacour front line, just before the incident which had somehow landed him here. Small, dark, with yellow eyes that seemed to possess a sort of bioluminescence. But it was apparently human, far more human than the monsters he'd fought, so he dismissed it as being an unsettling coincidence.

He surveyed the line again. Even if he'd been exactly eager to walk through such a forbidding gate(and he had to admit a small amount of curiosity as to what was so interesting about in there - wherever 'in there' was - that people would wait in line to get in), the thought of having to wait all that time to go into a place that didn't seem the least bit inviting while having to listen to inane chatter was distasteful to the extreme. Better to scout around out here, first, to see if what was inside could possibly be better.

So, apparently entirely alone in having drawn this conclusion, Dias finally moved - away from the gate and the line.

The day had been incredibly long at Balamb Garden as Selphie had dragged her feet on the floor toward the dormitory. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she had ever felt this tired in her life. The walls, everything was one large blur of colour, light and people as the SeeD finally stumbled through the entrance into the dormitories. Her feet lagged as she converged on the location of her dorm. A swipe of a card key, kicking off of the boots and throwing on the most comfortable set of pajamas she could find and Selphie was ready for bed.

The minute her head hit the pillow, Selphie's eyes shut faster than they could have even if there was a pound of sand on each one. Maybe it was a dream, but the perky brunette didn't feel like she was sleeping in her bed at all, more like floating.

But that hard thud which brought her shoulder digging into something that was cold, clammy and wet? Selphie's eyes flew open as she saw that she sleeping on what appeared to be grass. What...? she thought to herself. This isn't my dorm, where am I? She blinked her eyes sleepily, scanning her surroundings, feeling the wind blowing through her hair.

Her scanning of the surrounding rolling hills and several buildings off in the distances, brought her to a line of people standing before a tall gate of silvery ice that wasn't melting? The gate was massive, swaying with the gravity of this place but that ice just didn't seem to like the concept of melting. She shook her head, feeling mud beneath her feet and knew that she'd have to find some money to get some clothes and a pair of shoes. What a great way to make an impression on total strangers, in her pajamas and without any shoes.

Slowly, she stepped forward toward the line feeling more and more sheepish as she did so. They all appeared to be armed with some type of weapon. Meanwhile, here she was, Selphie Tilmitt, weaponless and ready for bed. She wasn't entirely sure what to do except smile and hope that someone would be able to help her, tell her anything at all.

The line was long and Selphie knew that she'd be standing in it for quite some time before she was allowed into the city. She hated waiting, but she hated not knowing what was going on more than anything else in the world. Sighing audibly, Selphie got into the queue and would wait patiently for her turn to be allowed into the world.

"I'm definitely not in Balamb anymore," she said more to herself than for any of the other people around her.

Riku was just beginning to seriously consider decapitating his annoying little friend, just to silence that damned babbling, when there was a distortion near the line of people waiting to go through the gates, and suddenly. He found it difficult to breathe.

Even from this distance, there was no mistaking that familiar figure. No one else in all the worlds to which Riku had traveled had hair quite that zany or shorts quite that...well. Red, didn’t seem to cover it.

He had to consciously stop himself from sprinting across the distance. After everything that had happened, there was no assurance after all that Sora even wanted anything to do with him. Sure, he’d SEEMED to blame Ansem for most of what had happened, but...

Riku wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected to see Sora again. Perhaps, on an unconscious level, he really had thought himself dead. But if Sora was here, this place definitely wasn’t hell.

He grimaced as he noticed those two freaks were still with him. That just figured.

But, one way or the other, if Sora was in this world, Riku wasn’t just going to stand here.

Resting the Soul Eater on one shoulder, he began to swagger in the direction of the line, consciously making his body language casual, nonchalant, and laid back. Sora didn’t need to know how seeing him again had affected Riku - he himself couldn't make much sense of the storm of conflicting and mixed emotions that had hit upon seeing his best friend again. And in case his friend was just going to tell him to get lost, it was more dignified to pretend not to care to begin with.

If his gait happened to resemble a peacock strut, Riku didn’t notice. His focus had completely narrowed down to that single figure and destination.

But he was distracted from it halfway there, when he collided with an immovable object along the way. Annoyed – in spite of the fact HE had been the one to run into the OTHER man – Riku looked up into a long, triangular face with an irksomely placid expression.

“You’re in my way!” he snapped, and began to walk around him toward the line.

Dias' hope that moving away from the line of people would prevent his having to deal with any of them was in vain. Someone ran into him - a rather short someone, which for Dias accounted for about 80% of the population in any given area - and bounced off like a spitball. Dias might look slim, but he was as solid as a rock.

He eyed the person - it was the boy from earlier, the silver-haired one he'd observed being trailed by the ~~naked~~ strange little monster-lookalike. And apparently he had no manners whatsoever.

Before the boy could walk on, Dias detached his sword - sheath and all - from his belt and held it out in the boy's path like a tollgate, angled downwards to prevent him from simply ducking under it. "I'm not sure of the customs here," he said, in a calm but uncompromising voice, "but where I'm from, people apologize after running in to someone." His eyes had narrowed slightly, but as far as expression changes went, that was all. The rudeness annoyed him more than the actual being walked into had.

Riku suddenly found his path blocked by a sheathed sword.

Oh no he didn't.

The tall freak of nature demanded an apology, and Riku's hot temper snapped. Bad enough the guy had to be taller than he was, but now this?

A demonic smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he lowered the Soul Eater from his shoulder, holding it before him for a moment before using it to smack the sheathed blade out of his path with a flick of his wrist.

"Guess I'm just rude."

A fight was sure to get Sora's attention. Then it would be up to him whether he approached or not. And taking down an old beanpole like this shouldn't be too much trouble...

Dias' expression went from flat to pissed off without a single stop in between when the boy slapped his sword out of the way with a weapon that appeared to have been commissioned by an overly emotional teenager whose entire experience with combat consisted of having heard stories about it from a great-uncle. In the name of Tria, it looked like a bat's wing...what the hell sort of weapon was that?

Of course, the ridiculously dramatic-looking weapon certainly explained the arrogance of the boy holding it. No one carrying a joke of a weapon like that around had the sense not to pick fights with those out of their league.

Still, there was no point taking the boy too lightly. Since the teen's sword was now at the ready, Dias drew his own, a longsword in excellent condition that easily dwarfed the boy's ridiculous weapon, although he made no move to do anything overtly threatening with it yet. He simply had no intention of being caught off guard by this child and his bravado. "That's not a guess, that's a fact," he replied, somewhat drily. "Is picking a fight with me that much more appealing than simply being civil and apologizing?"

The Dark Boy left.

Heartless became slightly anxious as yellow eyes widened and watched the teen stand and walk away, his hissing and humming becoming slightly louder for a moment.

darkdarkDARKHEARTDARKBOYDARKBOYDARKBOY...

He struggled with his legs, moving forward and crouching first - he felt more comfortable like this, knelt down. It was a more familiar height level, though even this was still too tall. He eyed the lack of shade out there, where the Dark Boy was moving now, and seemed to distrust it; but then something else suddenly caught his attention.

It singed his mind so badly that for a fleeting second he thought he'd been burned. His senseless chatter ceased instantly, and the shadow was utterly silent. He seemed to cringe, trying to cave in on himself for a moment -- but he finally looked up, and stared at the other boy. The Light Boy.

The key bearer.

He disregarded the light then, scrambling forward and lunging onto his awkward legs. He stumbled but was able to catch the pattern of movement in a moment or two. He was walking, though there was a jitter to his step; he wobbled, unused to balancing his body, and so the motion he set into was slightly off-step. He swayed a tiny bit, but as far as he was concerned, could move just fine, thanks very much.

He seized after the Dark Boy, who had seemingly become engaged with some other human. Normally, Heartless would have seized the chance to launch his own attack, but was too occupied at the moment. He waded his way over to the teen, and then promptly crouched down a foot or so from his side. His hissing had started up again, and he quite blatantly ignored the taller human and the drawn weapons. His gaze was locked on the keybearer waiting placidly in the line, eyes wide and hungry.

The humming and chattering he made was no longer soft, but almost madly incessant. He was demanding the Dark Boy's attention - he could care less if a battle broke out, he continued his chatter;

keykeykeylight key key keydarkboy key keykeykeyheartkillkeykeykk..

The teen had a darkness like him, and so surely he would be urged to seek out the key bearer as well? To destroy him?

Selphie frowned as she watched with disdain as a fight began to brew before her eyes. All around her there were people better equipped to deal with this situation and yet, none of them apparenetly had any intentions of doing so. Why this was, was beyond the brunette's understanding but she knew that she herself was completely defenseless to do anything to stop them. There were people with swords, guns, fighting gloves, a man smoking like a chimney who was looking extremely impatient and herself.

Screaming was the first thing that popped into her mind, hoping that if she screamed that it would draw attention to the problem at the end of the line.

However, her thoughts about stopping the fight was ceased immediately as her hearing picked up on the sounds of a hissing cat? She turned around and saw a black shadow with glowing yellow eyes, leering very close to a young man with wild brown hair wearing oddly shaped clothes. They might have been normal to him but they were the weirdest -- but the coolest -- sets of clothing Selphie had ever seen.

Selphie's first natural instict of course was to interfere in whatever it was that was staring at the boy but knew that it would cause nothing but problems later on. If more trouble arose -- from this black monster or the fighting taking place behind her -- Selphie would get involved no matter how defenseless she was. The brunette remained quiet, quite possibly using the first bit of restraint she'd ever displayed in her life.

The line was moving; slowly, but moving. All that everyone at Niflheim Gate would have to do was wait. Cigarette smoke, black monsters and Men behaving like little boys would.

Well, wasn't this pleasant? Vexen didn't expect to see such a long line as he approached the gates, but the sight pleased him nonetheless. No, he didn't mind waiting to enter the city; on the contrary, this gave him plenty of time to observe the masses that had gathered in front of tall, imposing gate. He had no idea if it was open beforehand, but he supposed it wasn't, or else a line of this length wouldn't have formed. It didn't matter now, the masses were trickling in like water.

The only reason he even bothered joining them was because, like the others, he too wanted to see what laid behind the gates. It must have been something quite splendid to draw this much people to it's borders, although they could have been entering merely because it was the only place to go, based on the bits and pieces of conversation he was hearing. He had no idea himself.

Still, the drone of conversation was only as interesting as the subject matter, and in a matter of minutes, Vexen found himself boredly crossing his arms and tuning everyone out as he waited to enter. Already, the masses at the gates were talking about nonsense that had no value to him whatsoever, and it was irritating. Others seemed to think so as well, sacrificing their place in line just to get away from the chatter.

Finally, after a calculated half hour wait, Vexen finally found himself being shoved through the gate, lips curling as he was finally received the very object he had been waiting for: a small blue box-like object. He didn't open it just yet; it was too crowded and he preferred to work in silence.

Vexen silently made his way through the gate, idly wondering if this place had a nice quiet library and maybe a coffee shop. He was already getting a headache from the constant chatter and caffeine deprivation.

Finally, it was Selphie's turn at the gate. She hopped up and down as the mud squished inbetween her toes. She honestly didn't care anymore about the mud or her appearance. As soon as she managed to find some money, she was going to buy herself some snazzy clothes.

She skipped up to the boothed and grinned at the attendant inside who said, "Welcome to Paixao, may I have your name please?"

"My name's Selphie; Selphie Tilmitt."

A clicking of keys was heard before a black device was procured and passed into her outstretched hands.

"This is the electronic journal. Please use it to record your thoughts and anything else you wish to write down."

Smiling warmly at the clerk, Selphie walked through the gate and into the pleasant looking city of Paixao. "Alright," she said determinedly. "Let's go get me some money!"

And off went Selphie, racing down the hills being careful not to trip over anything.

This. Was taking. Too. Long.

Sora stamped his feet and held his head in frustration. What in the world was making everything go so slowly?! Apparently, Sora wasn't the only one getting upset. It seemed there was some trouble stirring up farther back in the line, but Sora was too wrapped up in his own concerns to bother looking.

Thunk!

“Ow!” Sora said, rubbing the back of his head. He glared at Donald. “Whatcha do that for?!” Donald glared right back, holding his staff up and tapping his foot. “The guy asked for your name ten times already!” he answered.

Sora turned his head to Goofy, obviously looking for support. Goofy only looked down. “Well, gawrsh, I mean we called ya and everythin’, but you weren’t answerin’ us.” He shrugged.

Sora rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Whuh?” he asked tiredly. “Name?” the man asked. He seemed irritated, but nothing close to the anger he should have felt at being ignored for so long.

“Oh, um, Sora,” the brown-haired boy answered. After this, the man paid him no mind, which Sora assumed was the cue allowing him to enter. He took a few steps forward and a small object was shoved into his hands. He fondled it for a moment, wondering what it was, but his thoughts were interrupted as he heard a yelp from behind him.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?!” came Donald’s angry voice.

Behind Donald stood a tall man, well-built, and obviously angry. He narrowed his eyes at Donald, pushed the small duck forward, and then turned his head to the man that had asked Sora’s name. “How come he gets to get in without givin’ his name, huh?” “Huh…must not have seen him,” the other man droned. “Well I won’t stand for it!” said Donald’s attacker. “He should have to give his name just like the rest of us!”

“Fine, fine,” said the first man. “Name?” “Absolutely not!” replied Donald. “If you think I’m going to cooperate after being manhandled then you’re very much mistaken!”

‘Oh, no,’ Sora inwardly groaned. Donald was making a scene, and this was the absolute last thing that Sora wanted. “Donald, come on!” Sora urged. But his feathered friend wouldn’t budge, and instead brandished his staff around, shouting, “I’ll fight ya, I’ll fight ya!” Sora slapped his forehead, grabbed Donald, and ran off to the gate. He turned back, realizing Goofy wasn’t with them. “Goofy!”

Goofy turned around slowly. “Uh, guys?” Donald ran towards him and grabbed his companion’s hand. “Come on!” Donald shouted. “But guys, I think I just saw a hear—“ “Hurry up!” Sora cried franticly. As soon as the two caught up with Sora, the three of them ran into the gate as fast as they could.

Riku felt very smug as Mr. Cool immediately lost it. He looked pissed as hell.

Now we’re talking.

Then the man drew his weapon.

Big deal, Riku thought. Like I didn’t know you had a sword before.

"Is picking a fight with me that much more appealing than simply being civil and apologizing?"

Riku’s smirk widened to a feral grin. “What, are you afraid I’ll beat you or something?”

But before the fun could begin, he felt the Shadow come scrambling up behind him. Why had it stopped right behind him? He’d surely trip, if he had to move at all in the impending fight.

Then he felt its mania and heard what it was desperately chittering about.

The tall man in front of him was immediately forgotten as Riku scowled and turned around to pick the mutant Shadow up by its throat and give it a good shaking. “If you so much as TOUCH him, I’ll--!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Riku saw a flash of red pass between the gates. He hurriedly glanced up and down the line. When had it started moving so quickly? Sora wasn’t there anymore. That must have been him.

“Shit!” he swore. “Goddamnit!” And charged forward in the direction of the entrance, totally ignoring the line, the Shadow, and the pissed off swordsman behind him.

Al watched the two men's confrontation from the line, stepping towards them when weapons were drawn. This was getting dangerous fast; someone needed to stop them, and no one else was taking the initative.

His eyes widened when the shorter one turned on the dark young man hovering around his feet and began shouting.

"Hey--!"

But before Al could step in, he spun around just as spontaneously and took off towards the gates. Al, slightly confused, sighed in relief and turned to look back at the naked boy, then quickly averted his eyes to the tall man.

"...You shouldn't fight." Al called out lamely. (Was he imagining it, or was his voice a touch deeper?) "At least, not without a good reason."

The frantic, desperately hungry chattering escalated into a screech as he was suddenly attacked by the Dark Boy. He scrabbled viciously at the hand that held his throat, possibly landing a few cuts in the process. The screeches escalated as he was shaken, and then all at once he was dropped.

He fell to the ground with a hard thump and for a moment simply sprawled there, gasping for breath and calming the frantic noises he made. His voice died off and he fell silent for a moment, sharply turning his head toward the voice that was calling out now. He stared at the human with a malignant glow to his yellow eyes, and then lunged back onto his feet, hurrying awkwardly after the Dark Boy.

His chattering started up again as he rush-wobbled past the human who'd called in his general direction, shooting him a hungry glare and going so far as to slash at him as he passed, though he could only feel the catch of cloth on his claws before he was past the human. He stumbled once and hissed as he almost lost balance completely - but managed to regain what little composure he had to begin with, and pursued the teen, hissing and chattering angrily at him, but not going so far as to actually confront him.

Heartless lingered several feet behind, and simply followed.

As Riku charged to the front of the line, still holding his sword, those in his path needed little encouragement to get out of it. But when he reached the gates, a dwarf-like man was suddenly in his way.

“Your name?” he asked, looking nervous and put-upon.

“What’s it to you?” Riku growled, looking past him at the city beyond for any sign of Sora.

“You may not enter the city without—“ the man began.

“Fine. The name’s Ansem.” What the hell had made him say that? “Now get out of my way.”

The man moved aside, then happily enough, to record something in a large book nearby. Just inside the gates, a pale, nondescript woman handed him something. Riku snatched it out of her hand just to be done with it. He didn’t have time for this bullshit.

Moving away from the gates, Riku looked this way and that for Sora. But the cobbled square was littered with beggars and large-eyed children selling flowers (he hoped it was flowers they were selling), along with many people dressed in rags, hobbling to and fro.

In spite of the monochrome of the crowd, Riku could not find that speck of red he was looking for.

He gritted his teeth in frustration and sheathed the Soul Eater.

This was all that beanpole’s fault. If he hadn’t distracted him—-a spot of red caught his eye, and Riku looked down...at his arm, which was bleeding freely and copiously from several gashes that damned Shadow must have left when he’d ordered it not to even think of attacking Sora. Their claws were sharp – Riku hadn’t even felt the damage as it was made.

But it wasn’t pretty. Back home, he would have gone for the first aid or maybe even walked to the emergency room. Here...

Riku clenched his fists in frustration, which only increased the flow of blood. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Why was he even here?

He wasn’t helpless, but when it came right down to it, Riku was still a fifteen-year-old boy far from home and friends. And he’d never been what one might call practical or level-headed in a crisis.

K. Larxene was officially bored with this stupid place. It was bustling, and all, but things just weren't-- Oh. My. God. A café. Larxene shut her journal-thing and tucked it in her robes before walking into the little shop at a fast walk. Finally, some coffee. Staying away all of last night after finding out what had happened wasn't all that fun. Researching it didn't do the least bit of good. What the hell had happened, anyway?

Oh, yes, she had actually come here on purpose.

...So, back to the coffee.

Larxene had luckily been smart enough to have some money on her, hidden deep inside one of her pockets. She took the needed amount out and exchanged it to the cashier who stood in the shop for a delicious caramel-laced capuccino. Things weren't so bad here, were they?

~

The Shadow followed, paying no mind to whether or not there were still humans congregating in front of him. There was a distinct growl in his throat as he pushed through someone, claws lashing out at any of the ones that tried to stop him.

He stumbled just at the front, and lost what had been an admirable hold on his legs; he hit the ground for the fourth time that day. Someone stepped before him, and he instantly pushed himself up, staring with wide, maliciously observant eyes at the squat human who'd taken up stance there.

"Name, please?"

Heartless twitched and then hissed at him, the man's voice riling him up enough to start the senseless, angry chattering all over again. He made to gouge out the man's face, but missed as the short human stumbled back and away before any injury could befall him.

The Shadow exhaled roughly, huffing and surged past the squat man. Another human was inside the large gates too -- she shoved something at him and he veered on his foot, losing balance but using it to his advantage. He lunged at her without hesitation, hissing and biting viciously at the outstretched hands and arms.

He had lost the Dark Boy by now, and the humans here hurt his eyes; he left the human who'd 'attacked' him, not even noticing the small rectangle-thing that fell to the ground. He stumbled over his feet before regaining that jerky style of motion, and scurried away.

Considering how confrontational the boy had been just a few seconds before, his suddenly turning on the hissing little ~~still naked~~ boy - man? child? it was difficult to say, its looks were so odd - behind him and shaking him like a rag doll was something of a surprise. It was even more of a surprise when he simply took off, and Dias' eyes following him through the gate held a touch of bemusement.

It took him a few moments before he even acknowledged being addressed; then he turned to study the person who was apparently talking to him, as he hadn't noticed anyone else fighting and the child had already run off(the dark creature following him closely still). A blond boy, about the same age as the silver-haired brat who'd just run off...maybe a little younger. And everything about him - his stance, his eyes, that gentle and slightly worried tone of voice - screamed 'pacifist'. Dias suppressed a look of distaste as he slid his sword back into its sheath and reattached it to his belt. Had he ever been that soft?

"The boy was the one who wanted a fight," he replied flatly. "Take it up with him, if you like."

Al yelped in suprise as the strange boy leapt at him, clawing wildly, and took a jump back just in time to hear the disfigured hands rip only at his shirt. He gaped, heart pounding, at the boy who immediately continued after the other teen with his spastic gait.

Looking up again at the warrior, Al was relieved to see the man's sword sheathed and cautiously took a step towards him. His stony face and emotionless voice sent a chill down Al's spine, but he didn't seem to be threatening.

"But...you're the one who stopped him in the first place," Al childishly insisted. "I saw you from the line."

Dias watched the (rather halfhearted, in his opinion) attack on the boy by the strange creature without much interest. If the creature had persisted, had seemed truly intent on hurting the boy rather than just lashing out for the sake of it, he would have stepped in - the blond really didn't seem as though he were capable of defending himself, that was certain. But as it was, the little creature wandered off quickly, and the blond (once he'd composed himself) took a step closer to him, making talking easier. Dias in turn moved closer as well; since he at least wasn't holding a place in line, he had more freedom of movement.

"He was being rude," Dias replied, as though that explained everything. "I simply asked for an apology. I had no idea he was so proud that he'd rather draw a weapon on me than apologize for running into me, or I would have let him go. My time is not so worthless that I'll waste it on beating the proper respect out of antagonistic brats when I could be doing better things." His tone was even as he said this, without audible emotion, a bit at odds with the uncompromising insult.

"Oh--well..." Al stammered at the man's seemingly logical response, and nervously ducked his head to take to closely examining the tattered ends of his shirt. Ah, this would need to be fixed... If the boy hadn't run off with the remains of fabric still attached to his claws, he could have transmuted it back together. Transmuting without those pieces would thin the rest of the shirt.

"I guess...I guess he shouldn't have done that. He did seem a little angry. Most people here are. But still..." Al mustered the courage to look up and stare him straight in the eye. "Fighting is bad. Someone could get hurt! Even if he drew first, you don't have to." He pouted, holding his gaze stubbornly and wishing more than a bit that Brother was here to support him.

There was no denying the boy's statement. Dias hadn't been paying much attention to the people in line - honestly, he hadn't really cared to - but now that he looked, very few of them seemed happy to be here. Had they been pulled to this place unexpectedly as well? Where from? He didn't recognize any soldiers from the front lines, and since they'd all been wearing plate mail it would have been hard to miss them if they were in the crowd somewhere, so no one else from where he'd been seemed to have come along...

He turned his attention back to the boy, though, when the blond made the stunningly naive observation that fighting could hurt people (Dias had always thought that was sort of the point), and the similarly insane proclamation that Dias should have left his weapon sheathed when the silver-haired brat's own sword had come into play. His faintly disturbing red eyes almost held a hint of incredulity as he replied. "I would have been better served, then, when confronted by an angry person brandishing a sharp sword, not to prepare myself for a battle by at least having my weapon ready? I have no wish to fight foolish children, but I like the idea of being run through by one without defending myself even less."

Again, the words were not overly harsh or critical(even if the disbelieving tone they were spoken in suggested that the blond must be suffering from some sort of mental illness to have ever made such suggestions). As far as Dias was concerned, they were statements of fact - obvious fact, at that, but the boy was very obviously not a fighter himself and couldn't really be expected to know these things. The sheer innocence of him and his simple ideals made him think of Rena, a girl so gentle she cried for birds that died after flying into windows, and his voice softened accordingly. "Does it matter, anyway? There was no fight."

The warrior's blunt words made Al fidget twice as much, embarassed to be caught lecturing a man who embodied the essence of experience. Though he personally disagreed, Al knew that the man was perfectly justified in his reasoning. Even Al did that; whenever Brother and he got into an arguement, Ed would raise his fists and Al would do so in return, preparing for the inevitable scuffle. But this was with real weapons! A fat lip and sore feelings were one thing, but death (Al couldn't help but think of Mother and shudder.) was something else! It still couldn't be right, not over something so petty.

Al bit his lip in a moment of indecision over whether to back down or not (Brother wouldn't back down!), then found himself babbling. "But would he attack someone defenseless? That's not fair. And, and, besides it's stupid to hurt or--or to kill someone over something so petty--"

"Does it matter, anyway? There was no fight."

Mid-sentence, Al stopped. He thought on it and relaxed a bit, noting a kinder tone of voice. "No," he said with a small smile. "No, I guess not."

He squinted at the gates, attempting to see if the teenager and strange boy were still there, but they seemed to be long gone. Al looked back at the tall man and gestured for him to stand together with him in the long line. "I'm Alphonse. Al."

Dias could have refuted Al's continuing arguments before the boy relaxed and let the subject go, but decided not to. Best to just let the matter drop - he'd never tried to talk Rena out of her gentleness, however naive, and there was no reason for him to do so with this boy. After all, there was something precious (perhaps even enviable?) about such innocence.

He hesitated at the blond's gesture to join him in line. "I'm not sure if going through that gate is the best idea," he said eventually, dubiously, eyeing the silvery construct once more. Dias was still faintly amazed ANYONE thought walking through that forbidding arch was a good idea. "Not until I know what's on this side of it, at least." But that didn't mean he couldn't introduce himself, anyway. "Dias," he said, with a slight inclination of his head.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Mister Dias," Al replied amiably. He tilted his head and considered the looming glass structure before them, craning his neck to see into the city beyond. "Why would it be a bad idea? Everyone else is going in," he pointed out. "I don't think hanging around out here could be any better. It might be dangerous."

Al looked up at the city again and grinned. "Besides, don't you feel it? This place, it feels... It's... There's just something about it, I don't know how to describe it. It's...nice. It's like in a storybook! Like magic."

"I don't like cities," Dias muttered, mostly to himself but loud enough for Al to hear. "And even if I did, this setup doesn't make sense. Why make such an imposing gate? What is so special about this city that people would line up to enter? Because whatever it is, no one's told me about it." This was said with a trace of the genuine but all-too-human annoyance of someone feeling out of the loop as he gave the gate a narrow-eyed look as though his current predicament was its fault somehow. "What is this city, and why was I dragged here? I've been all over Expel and I don't recognize this place, or any of the people standing in line."

The mercenary turned his unsettling gaze back onto Al. "And while I've only been here for fifteen minutes, it seems strange that a gate through which so many people are entering isn't letting anyone back out again."

Unlike Al, Dias was a naturally suspicious and skeptical (and highly observant) person. He felt something, all right, but it was largely to the tune of trepidation. This city, even from the outside, didn't bear even a passing resemblance to any of the cities of Expel, and he hadn't even liked those overmuch. The truth was, he didn't like that dome at all. Dias was far more at home in a natural setting than an urban one - the thought of entering a place where there wasn't even a sky unsettled him on several different levels. And, of course, it wasn't as though he had anything to fear out here(in his frank and less-than-humble opinion), not if all the demons of hell were lined up waiting for him beyond the horizon.

Then again...Alphonse seemed like a nice enough boy, someone Rena would have liked if she'd ever met him. (Not to mention one who would be helpless to take care of himself if there WAS anything dangerous beyond that icy gate.) If Dias truly suspected something was wrong with the city, then what would it say about him if he let the child stroll through the gates...?

He hesitated. "You're sure you want to go in there?"

Al listened carefully to Dias' questions; he'd had a few of the same, but... "It seems like the only people who know what this place is are the ones inside, and that's why we're going. Why I am, at least. I've never heard of this place, or your Expel, but there must be answers inside." He motioned towards the entrance. "But I'm sure the gate is just like that for display, and the only reason people aren't leaving is because they don't want to. It can't be that bad inside, not if it looks so nice. There's probably food and places to sleep."

Al sighed and briefly thought of his grumbling stomach--he and Ed had been working all day, and they hadn't had time to eat since breakfast. He suddenly realized that something was off--it seemed to be early in the day here, yet it had been night last he recalled. Just where was this? Creta?

He looked behind him to the luminous fields in the distance. From here they seemed to stretch out forever. Resembool was like that, with green hills and farmland for miles. He'd never seen anything like that field, though, certainly not in Resembool. It looked like a sea. A beautiful sea of white. Just the sight of it had a hypnotic effect on Al, and he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and trying to take it all in. This place... He wanted--

"You're sure you want to go in there?"

The voice shook him out of it, and Al reluctantly opened his eyes and turned his gaze back to Dias. "I'm sure," Al replied firmly. "I need to get home, and I won't know how unless I go inside. Also...there might be someone in there waiting for me. I don't know." He glanced at the city again, and then back up at Dias. "What do you plan to do?"

Someone in there waiting for me. Well, that clinched it. Dias didn't need to be a master of human psychology to know that he'd have a difficult, if not impossible, time of talking Al out of going into the city if he was hoping to find someone in there. And the plain fact of the matter was that he couldn't let the boy walk through that gate when Dias believed it could very well be like letting a lamb walk through the door of a slaughterhouse.

Well, correction: he couldn't let Al walk through that gate alone.

With one last faintly wistful glance at the horizon and whatever nature it represented, Dias turned back to Al with an expression in his eyes that was somewhere between resigned and resolute. "I had planned to look around out here," he said, entirely honestly. "But if you're going to go through that gate, I'll at least come that far to see that nothing happens to you." Although the implication that Al couldn't handle anything he might find on the other side was slightly condescending, the offer itself was well-intentioned, as friendly a gesture as Dias ever really made anymore.

Any hint of a condescending tone was lost on Al, as he exclaimed "Really?!" rather loudly, attracting looks and glares from the people nearby. Embarrassed, Al quieted, still gaping at Dias. "You will?" he said again, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. He hadn't expected the impassive man would actually join him! This would be much better (and potentially safer) than wandering the city alone. Maybe Dias would help him find Brother!

Al gave Dias a broad, honest smile. "Thank you. I really do appreciate it."

Al's overexuberance, and the stares it earned them both, almost coaxed a smile out of Dias, although the only visible hint of this was a softening of the look in his eyes. Tria, the boy really was similar to Rena...even to Cecille...

...and that train of thought needed to stop right there. He turned his head away from Al, clearing his throat as though suddenly uncomfortable.

"I can't promise I'll come much farther than inside the gate," he warned the boy, still not looking directly at him. "I still want to scout out this place."

Al cocked his head curiously as Dias shifted. Was something wrong? But inside his heart warmed; this man was much kinder than first appearances gave. He was glad it was Dias with him, if not Brother.

"Oh, no, that's okay!" Al waved his hands in the air. "You're already being too kind, and--"

"Name?"

"Ah, huh?"

Al looked at the blonde man who'd addressed him, then back up at Dias, at whom he gave a warm smile.

"Alphonse Elric. Shall we go?"

Dias also turned his attention to the man who'd spoken, who had turned his attention to Dias now that Al had given his name and seemed...somewhat anxious. Given that he was forced to stare up at a towering and not-exactly-friendly-looking man with an imposing sword sheathed at his side, this was an understandable reaction, one Dias was used to.

Instead of giving his name immediately, however, Dias gave the man a long, questioning look. "Why are you taking down our names, anyway?" he inquired.

"Well...um..." The man was fidgety, not making eye contact. His whole posture screamed I just do what I'm told. Dias really didn't feel the need to press the point, taking what amounted to pity on the man.

"Dias Flac," he said brusquely before turning to nod to Al. The sooner they were away from this line and the nervous little bureaucrat, the better.

Murmuring "Thank you" as he graciously took the blue journal from the young woman handing them out, Al examined it curiously, then stared up at the buildings lining the street. Despite the elaborate structure of the gate, the city inside seemed rather poor in these parts. But no worry! Surely the people here would still help them.

He tugged on Dias' sleeve to stop him and turned back to the young woman. "Um, excuse me, I have a question... Where is this?"

"Paixao," she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I see... Thank you," Al said despondently. He looked up at Dias again. "I've never heard of...Paixao..." His tongue struggled with the foreign word. "Do you know of it?"

Dias, too, had a small device pressed into his hand, of a slightly lighter blue shade than Al's; he didn't bother with examining his own, instead choosing to watch Al investigate his. It was strange, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, with little buttons labeled with letters like a printing press only far smaller and looking much more...what was the correct word?

Advanced.

Dias, who had already strongly suspected this place was nowhere on any map of Expel ever made, was suddenly hit by a wave of emotion, a feeling of displacement, so strong it was almost dizzying. Wherever or whatever this 'Paixao' was...he didn't belong in it.

An involuntary shiver ran through his body, one he squashed almost immediately after becoming aware of it. Yes, he was uncertain and not the least bit happy, but that just meant this would be the worst possible time to lose control of himself. Especially in front of a kid like Al.

"No," he said, with an effort. "I can't say I have. And I know most of the settlements on Expel." He stifled a sigh. "I know most of the plants, too, and I definitely know all of the large cities, and I haven't seen one familiar thing since I've gotten here...I don't think this is my world at all." That was a hard declaration to make, not just for Dias but any Expellian; while dreamers occasionally mused of the possibility of other worlds beyond their own, the fact was that Expel was all the world anyone knew of. To not be on Expel at all...where the hell did that leave him?

He'd barely entered the city and already it was making him uncomfortable - not just the amount of people around him, either; they weren't much of a problem. In fact, they seemed more restrained and, well, TOLERABLE than many of the residents of Expel's cities, although their overall pale coloring made them look strangely washed out(and there was no difficulty in telling the inhabitants from the visitors, like Al and himself). It was the city itself. It was like looking at something beautiful that had fallen horribly into disrepair...the buildings looked as though they had been ornate, once, and then abandoned, and Dias couldn't figure out why. Why would a civilization that created such attractive architechture then simply allow it to come to this?

Between the pale, strangely subdued inhabitants and the rotting beauty of the place, Dias felt a bit like he'd walked into a ghost city. And the gate of silvery ice - decorated similarly on both sides, he could see now - behind them didn't exactly comfort him.

Dias suddenly snorted, one hand dropping down to touch the hilt of his sword for reassurance. What the hell did it matter to him, in any case? To hell with the mysteries of the city. All he wanted, NEEDED to find out was where he was and how he'd gotten there - and, perhaps, to help Al do the same. Everything else was a secondary concern at best.

I wonder if Cecille is watching me, even here...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At the gates of Niflheim [open]

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Entrance. ~

just outside

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To Dias

To Riku

To Dias

To Riku

to the general audience

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To Dias and Heartless

To Dias (Hope you don't mind; Riku-mun invited me to jump in ♥)

To Riku and Al

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Har, Har. ~

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To Al (and I don't mind at all &hearts; )

To Dias (alt+3 ;D ♥)

To Al (just borrows YOUR heart X3 ♥)

To Dias (OMG Heart thief!...Heartless? XD ♥)

To Al (You know it~ ♥)

To Dias (*brandishes keyblade!* ♥)

To Al (*hiss!* ♥)

To Dias (*roar~~* ♥)

To Al (*darkdarkdark* ♥)

To Dias (*swings keyblade* Raaah! ♥)

To Al (my home computer doesn't recognize hearts ;_; )

To Dias (Boo! D: *heartses anyways* ♥)

To Al (*steals another heart!* ♥)

To Dias (Bwee~ D: *pops out another one* ♥)

To Al (An endless supply of hearts! *throws you to the Heartless, problem solved* ♥)

To Dias (Nooo~ Don't let them eat meee! ♥)

To Al (*repents and defends you!* ♥)

To Dias (brandishes keyblade! ♥)

To Al (hiss! ♥)

To Dias (roar~~ ♥)

To Al (darkdarkdark ♥)

To Dias (swings keyblade Raaah! ♥)

To Dias (Boo! D: heartses anyways ♥)

To Al (steals another heart! ♥)

To Dias (Bwee~ D: pops out another one ♥)

To Al (An endless supply of hearts! throws you to the Heartless, problem solved ♥)

To Al (repents and defends you! ♥)