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Post by Deleted on May 15, 2018 20:07:33 GMT -5
How he entered this world, he knew not. A thing of such little importance failed to cross the dark stalwart’s conscience, as the journey continued forward. Unto placid, lavender ash the crunch of his boots would echo in the depths of a crystallized canyon, the corporeal form of his reflection would seek to mimic all he mustered. Eyes wrought with gleeful satisfaction gazed upon the end of the path at last. The evening sky would greet the armored behemoth upon taking his stand in a wide open plateau. Even here in the farthest corners of this tainted world, scars of battles long passed were evident in the earth. More clues to the conflict of the dead keys. This was merely theory, yet the winds of fate would not have carried him here of sheer coincidence.
Garland’s thoughts traveled backwards to an hour of triumph, less than a mere few days now behind him. A moment that would echo throughout eternity, among an endless renewal of clash after clash. A fallen, now shamed foe, and the glorious victory he had seized in the name of discord. It birthed a new flame within the harbinger of Chaos. It backed the warm pride that filled his chest, swelled like a fury that even after the fight, it could only thirst for more. The man formerly of Cornelia would take a deep breath, as he reveled in the silence that followed a symphony of battle. There were many things to consider moving down this path chosen, yet for Garland there was clarity among the fog of war. One by one the other Warriors of Light would fall, yet before each agonizing end, Garland would strip away from them their precious light, their precious hope.
The very thought of breaking them all quickened his heart, as he now knew such a thing could be obtained. This cycle of conflict would truly be the conclusion of this eternal struggle. At journey’s end, there would be no joy, no salvation, no future- for all who stood against the tides that were to come, would inevitably be washed away. Garland’s gaze wander skyward, to the brilliant stars that dominated the onyx sky, to all the worlds that would come to quake in the name of Chaos. The seeds of the war on harmony remained to be sewn, yet the time would arrive more quickly than the most meager of men could ever anticipate. For some this theater was already set upon them, whether they were even aware of its existence at all.
For this world, the impending threat of conflict was already on the air.
A powder keg just waiting to be ignited.
Garland could almost feel the doom that hastened to this world, guided by an unseen hand shrouded in the darkness. Whether or not it was this very omnipotence toying with his direction of fate, Garland knew not. There was only the certainty that the four Warriors and himself, now stood within the winds of a storm. Among these torrents, within this night sky, Garland could catch the sound of wings approaching on the wind. Birds at this hour seemed less than plausible, giving rise to the suspicion that yet another battle would find him. Garland would turn to the source, his lavender cape flourishing in the motion. As the mass of Rebellion would become a spire in his grasp to the earth beneath, wild eyes would search for either the foolish, or the brave.
”Whom dares seek audience, with the will of Chaos? Show yourself.”
@blackwaltz3
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Post by Deleted on May 18, 2018 13:01:39 GMT -5
"Get out of my way! Do you dare fight a Black Waltz?" The Black Waltz approached Garland's position not because he knew of the man's presence, but because his destination was that way. The Machine knew not every person who entered his world, nor was he inclined to investigate them and their purposes. He was no guardian of Gaia nor did he wish to be. Protecting the pathetic could be left to those that would deem themselves "Heroes", resistors of the inevitable. He had more achievable tasks ahead. What those were were not known to nobody but himself and he liked to keep it that way. He would've completely ignored the armored figure atop the mountain had he not been directly called out himself, the man asking who DARED to approach an embodiment of chaos. The Waltz stopped right there with a spread of his wings, slowly lowering himself to the ground before the man. He was tall... he would grant him that, a towering foe of shining, but cruel steel. His helm resembled that of a bull with horns stretching wide from the side of his head. The face of his helm was twisted, inhuman, perhaps to strike fear into those he encountered. He was a knight who's armor displayed something that could be described as terrorizing elegance and that wasn't even mentioning the massive club-like sword he carried with him. The way the man spoke, how he held himself... He was no doubt a feared and respected entity in the land from which he came. It wasn't from here... The Armor was too different... No smith on Gaia would dare or could craft something such as that. While the Waltz wasn't one to doubt his own invincibility, the machine was comtemplating whether starting a fight here would be in his own best interest. After all... engaging a stranger before knowing anything about them would only prolong the fight. That was... if were was to be a battle at all. It was a small sensation in the back of his mind, something ridiculous, he was sure but... this man... he could be more powerful than even his creator... "...You are not from here." The Black Waltz observed, staring up into the twisted maw of Garland's helm. "From which world do you hail?"@tag
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Post by Deleted on May 19, 2018 11:22:19 GMT -5
The stranger was revealed to be nothing more than a mage. Though bearing a vague similarity to some of his home, Garland recognized as he looked upon this creature, a very simple, yet honest truth. This was not a Warrior of Light. In fact by the very sight of this menacing enigma, did its wicked eyes dash away the very thought of a possibility. As it would speak, inquiring simply from where did Garland call home, there was far more spoken to the dark knight as he met the impenetrable gaze of the Waltz. There was no sense of a man alive beneath that pointed hat, but a savage creation of desire itself. No mage that had been truly remembered in Cornelia were known to possess wings for that matter. It still stood to question whether this mage came from this world, or another. It mattered little, as Garland suspected this creature held no bonds to tie it to either.
It was a simple enough of a request however, one he would gladly oblige.
”I am from the oldest of worlds.”
He would offer the truth, nothing more.
To a man with such a fate as Garland, he would welcome an invitation to more chaos, as it would only hasten the revival to the inevitable. The man looked upon the machine with pittance, to have never seen the many cycles of destruction, conflict, and seemingly unending war. Garland never suspected that this creature, whatever it was, had known any sort of love. A love for discord, or a love for another. Before Garland’s eyes as they left the Waltz, he saw only darkness given form, as he turned away from the mage without fear. A flourish of the lavender hued cape, and the dark knight would present the Waltz all the opportunity to strike him down. It was a mistake that Garland held with all certainty, would be the last this mage would make.
Instead, therein lied a curiosity to the nature of its presence here. Did it simply desire more than a new destination after completing its goals here, as Garland theorized? No, there was simply more to this than met the mere surface. Fate surely would have played another hand in the course Garland was to take. A new step within the new cycle, so he came to believe. So it was that Garland decided to entertain the creature’s presence a bit longer, to further sate this intrigue that began to prickle at the back of his mind.
”Do you desire discord? To sate your curiosity befitting whatever purpose you were given? To witness the very heart of it, as it unleashes chaos upon the lands?”
A moment of silence given, for the Waltz to ponder these words.
”For that is why you have come, is it not?”
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Post by Deleted on May 22, 2018 12:46:28 GMT -5
"Get out of my way! Do you dare fight a Black Waltz?" What an answer. "The oldest of worlds" huh...? He might as well had said he had come from a chocobo egg for all the sense that made. He supposed, in the grand scheme of things, where this armored giant came from did not matter. In fact, he was starting to contemplate why he even bothered to stop here at all. Clearly, this man wasn't doing anything especially interesting nor was he one for idle conversation. Whatever... He didn't have time for such nonsense. The Black Waltz spread his wings, raising them in preparation for flight when the armored giant spoke again, this time, his words catching the mage's interest. Slowly, his wings folded back against him as he listened to what the behemoth had to say. Discord? No. That is not something he desired for from chaos is worthlessness. Destruction... that is something he craved... It was what he was built for... Destruction, killing, murder... but direction. It was a dark desire, a monstrous one, something that would be shunned by the very worst of human kind... but he was not a human, was he...? He had kept himself from acting on his impulses thus far but every day they got stronger... Addictions can be overcome... What you are made to be can only be ignored for so long. "...No, it is not." The Waltz responded slowly. "...But perhaps it is the reason I stay. What purpose does your chaos serve, old one?" A name he had coined the knight. He had not a name nor did he know if this beast was even human! He had only his armor to go off of. Maybe that's all there was. @tag
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2018 9:32:52 GMT -5
The answer that followed, was possibly not the most favorable Garland would have taken, yet it was curious all the same. So the creature had sought this place out of meager coincidence? Nothing so bleak could be accepted in the eyes of the armored behemoth. Coincidence itself held no place in his world, in any time nor scene that would harbor the wayward vessel of Chaos. All things were connected in the eyes of the would be god. All roads eventually met at a crossroads, which would all traverse through harmony and discord along their paths. Such a thing was inevitable, as the inertia that drove the winged creature to this desolate plateau.
This very nature of things, it would seem, was what kept the winged enigma tethered to Garland’s words. Its questioning of the very essence of the purpose behind this chaos, would bring about a deep chuckle within the ironclad helm. No motions were made, save for the occasional whipping of the ends of his cape. Like a solid, immovable carving of the earth, Garland remained rooted to his spot. He too took into consider the very nature of these words, the very will of the fiery deity that still burned within his heart, that drove this machine of war with an unwavering resolve. What purpose did Garland’s chaos serve? It would suit the purposes of all things, all worlds, all hearts.
That was when the old cycles came to mind. Garland recalled the many times The Warrior and himself crossed swords, all in the name of a conflict, never-ending, to suit only the sating of a mythical beast that knew unending hunger. A desire to consume eternally, while those that birthed the fruits of their labors in the form of memories, would tirelessly fight, on and on, with no seeming conclusion in foreseeable sight. Garland considered the purpose of the war, the purpose it had served to strengthen the God he swore undying fealty to, and a hazed memory of another whom he agreed to assist in achieving these ideals made reality. He would look to this world, and all the others he had traversed to this moment in time. They were no different than that other realm, as they too would soon quake beneath the true power of strife. It was as inevitable as the thawing of a late winter’s expiring snow.
What purpose did discord serve? As much of a purpose that harmony would bestow upon all these lands, all these hearts, whom slept at night believing they knew peace eternal.
”No different a purpose than you doubtlessly serve. A will fueled by the fires of war, of destruction. The very same that draws all hearts to conflict, all worlds to an undying inevitability.”
Garland would then shift, so as to offer the Waltz another glimpse of those burning spheres within the demonic helm.
”The return of the God of Discord himself.”
@blackwaltz3
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2018 12:35:30 GMT -5
"Get out of my way! Do you dare fight a Black Waltz?" Black Waltz 3 hated those that did not speak in direct and simple terms, forcing him to go even further out of his way to translate their over-complicated speech into understandable phrases. This creature made a LOT of assumptions... well... just one, stating that his goal was likely not too much different than the mages's one filled with war and destruction... The return of a god. Black Waltz 3 blinked the image of Kuja out of his mind as he stared up at the armored man, refusing to let how right he was show in his gaze. There was a temptation in his heart... The desire to be a part of something bigger once again, to fulfill his original purpose and become the killer he once was. Instinct after instinct told him to accept, but gods often had a easy time dispatching of their pieces... Experience had taught him this. The moment he runs into difficulty, he becomes another pawn, such is the right of those who's plans do not proceed smoothly. But... the offer... His humanity screamed against it but his body reached out for it... the temptation to hold the power that came with it in his talons was very nearly mind-warping... It sounded very much like Garland offered him the power of chaos, one of the oldest primordial forces... Power unending... recycling... omnipotent. "...What is required?"@tag
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Post by Deleted on May 31, 2018 9:56:43 GMT -5
What was required?
Garland took a moment to think back upon his journey thus far. Almost immediately the clash of swords echoed throughout the memories, each of which involved a certain Warrior, in one way or another. The dark knight considered their last fight, and the desolate sands that had played host to their last bout. To say the least, the keys which littered that desert were curious items. At a point in time Garland theorized they were all wielded by powerful warriors, possibly even as formidable as the unrelenting Zest. The land upon which they fought was doubtlessly a graveyard. An inevitable change from the heat of a battle within the grandest of scales. As desolate as it had been, it held a beauty to Garland’s eye; a lone soul whom saw how truly marvelous the power it embodied really was.
The wielders of the abandoned weapons in that desert, were sure to have some who survived their unfortunate comrades. Descendants, those whom would carry on the legacy of their fallen predecessors. It of course, had been a custom in Cornelia for countless centuries, which was in fact, what spurred on this internal hypothesizing. Garland once more considered the question of the mage, and what was truly needed, not just from the Waltz, rather from all souls whom submitted to their destructive desires. The answer would come to the air, with an ironclad resonance.
”To stoke the embers of this impending war.”
The scent of conflict lingered upon the air. Garland would be a fool to mistake something so familiar, having stood among its sweet aroma a thousandfold.
The pair stood within the eye of a hurricane, knowing momentary peace before the wrath of the storm would consume them with all its fury. Garland welcomed the plunge, having spent too long in knowing the the next fight after the next, only to find momentary gleams of thrill and glory. Therein would exist the beauty of this inevitable pull, this drive, this inertia desire, the existence of every moment until the end would remain beyond his sight. Only the return of Chaos was assured, for Garland believed he could not still exist were it not for the birth of another cycle. The dark knight would raise his sights from the Waltz to the starry sky, to where he believed, that other world waited in earnest for his own return.
”Among these stars is a world of a thousand weapons, keys- long abandoned by their master’s expired hands.”
Garland will have raised a gauntlet at this notion, looking down to his own freed hand, before he would turn to regard the Waltz once more. There was no mistaking that his journey to that fated world, was a premonition of sorts. Fate’s means of delivering a vision unto its prisoners, its champions. Fighting among those dead weapons had only served to sate Garland’s curiosity to their power ever more. He desired to see the strength of such creations, eager to witness what awesome force had instilled true harmony into that world, through an instrument of an ultimate discord. The knowledge would serve Chaos, himself, and no one else. Before the air of war had expired among the worlds, Garland would see this made truth.
”The God’s return shall require the assistance of such a master.”
@blackwaltz3
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Post by Deleted on Jun 5, 2018 21:05:49 GMT -5
"Get out of my way! Do you dare fight a Black Waltz?" Black Waltz 3 couldn't keep the dark grin creeping up on his lips down as Garland answered his question simply and concisely, stating that all he would have to do is stoke the fires of war. "War..." The mage repeated softly, his needle-like teeth gleaming from beneath the dark veil. An attractive offer indeed... It was like the human's primal desire to eat and drink, their need to survive. Survival wasn't on the Waltz's agenda. He wasn't made to live. What he was made to do was kill and follow directions. Perhaps he had grown into something more since then but the foundations from which that was built still held strong. His glowing eyes widened as Garland mentioned that there was a world of weapons, one of "keys", that the end goal would require one of them. Well... How interesting was that... Power was just at his claw tips because he knew of at least 3 of those that held one of those keys... Convenient indeed! More and more positives stacked in his favor with this revelation, the machine being won over one bit of knowledge at a time. The satisfaction of killing... the rush of power... the pride in serving a higher goal once again... It was like nothing had changed... A fresh start. "Very well." The Machine agreed with a nod, sparks erupting all around his form in excitement. "You require one wielder of a key-sword... I think I know of a few I can draw from." For what purpose did these keys serve...? It was not his business to know. He was a soldier. He was a robot again. Instructions were what he required. No more explanations. "How will I find you once my mission is completed?"@tag
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Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2018 6:27:42 GMT -5
Power.
What else was to be offered unto this mage, other than his mere word alone? A simple promise of power would not be enough to seize this new piece for Chaos’ side of the board. A taste of it however, may prove to the Waltz enough that a place within the ranks of his future self’s forces, was not something to idly pass up, or considered taken lightly. The soul of the god within would show this creation of desire what devastating power it could wield. What awesome force it could awaken, by merely doing for what it was meant to exist. To birth discord, and destruction about the worlds. To become the culling, that would usher in the next reign of the rightful ruler to these broken worlds…these broken hearts.
A future that Garland would welcome heartily.
Beneath the façade of the demon, misty blue eyes twinkled upon witness to the sparks that surrounded the mage in his moment of glee. The confidence of Garland in the effect of his words, would prove enough to let a small tug play at the corners of his scarred lips. A fleeting moment of mortality none would bear witness to. The words of the mage would prompt a sudden lift of the greatsword; a deep ”Hmph!” made as the weapon was thrust into the ground, causing the ground to quake and splinter, as the very fabric of the air split apart by blackened flame. The very soul of Chaos bending the darkness to its will before the dark knight’s very eyes. From this temporal rift, floated skyward a powerful purple glow; the center dominated by a single onyx shard. ”Behold.” The rift would expire, as the crystalline stone drifted to hover just above Garland’s palm, before he would let it carry on the air to the Black Waltz.
”A shard of the true Dark Crystal.”
Garland would take a moment to let this significance sink in.
”Within holds the power to sew the seeds of strife, to set ablaze the stirrings of war within hearts worlds over. Like every foe and world that will be consumed by these desires, so too shall this gem sate its hunger from the chaos of the conflicts you are to create during your search. When that hunger is sated, it shall heed the beckoning of the master stone. Where you will find me.”
The dark knight would seize the hilt of the greatsword once more, and forcibly remove it from the earth. The first boon of Chaos had been offered, now all that remained was for the mage to reach out, and seize hold of destiny.
@blackwaltz3
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Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2018 20:19:03 GMT -5
"Get out of my way! Do you dare fight a Black Waltz?" Black Waltz 3 stared in both awe and curiousity as a dark, non-magical force radiated out from where Garland sunk his blade, Bringing forth a geyser of darkness! It was a lack of light... but also gasseous and fluid.... The way it shifted and churned was nothing like that of the normal shadows of his world... Theirs did not dance... Theirs did not have tendrils that reached out across 3-dimensional space... Theirs did not seem so hungry as these, only consuming the light that fell within it. This... This did not seem to grow only when the light faded... It looked as if to consume light everywhere near and around it and the only thing keeping it stagnate in it's growth was that sword and the man that held it... "What is this power...?" The Machine mused to himself, resisting every erge to reach out and touch it. So powerful... so ancient but completely lacking in any higher thought or wisdom... It was like an opening to the inside of a great, wild beast but... far MORE than that as well... "It's... not magic..." Something that predated any form of control, that was for certain... If Garland heard him, he didn't respond. Instead, he beckoned at the rift to the dark and within, something responded to his hails... A small black shard floated out from within, no larger than the feathers on his wings... It seemed drawn to the Waltz... pulled to him as if they were the opposite ends of magnets but it's approach was quickly halted by the massive knight, snatching it out of the air between his two armored fingers. "Dark Crystal..." He repeated, his eyes glowing brightly, attracted to the utter madness Garland promised... Power... death... mastery of the abyss... All these things the Machine wanted on the most carnal level and with each promise and display of power as proof, the machine fell deeper and deeper under the spell of this knight... No. The irony was not lost on him. With that, Garland let the crystal continue on it's merry way, Black Waltz 3 doing nothing to touch it as it slowly floated towards him... sinking into his chest where his heart would've been. INSTANTLY, Black Waltz 3's eyes shot wide open as a dark energy surged through him, his ripping all up and down his form, netting and twisting around his body into some sort of dark orb! Solid black nothing could be seen from within... Until two wings slowly extended out from the center... The Sky turned dark, thunder-clouds grumbled and lightning crashed into the mountain side close to the knight, drawn by the unity of Darkness and Black Magic. Echoed steps whispered out from the dark orb as the new Black Waltz stepped out from within, his body surrounded by the dark, misty clouds of his Trance, electricity jumping constantly across his fingers and along his ruined Jacket "...Very Well." His voice was twisted... as if he were Thunder given voice, vicious and blunt. "You shall have your key-blade wielder." And with that... The New Black Waltz No. 3 shot off into the sky, the very flaps of his wings like the booms of thunder from above. (EXIT
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Post by Deleted on Jun 15, 2018 11:14:28 GMT -5
The dark knight watched as the machine of a mage would accept the shard’s power. Garland would bear witness to the birth of the Dark Chrystal’s will for completion within the frail frame under that pointed hat. It was no different than Chaos had described it in the other world. As expected, the power of the shard would call forth the true darkness, the seed of discord, from within the very being of this creature. A primordial force accessible to only those whom still recalled a trace of its existence. Doubtless that the God of Discord was among one of these souls. Garland theorized this sudden surge, this change within the winged machine before him, was simply a means of the master crystal exerting its will over the shard’s new host. One did not expect the power of this Trance to have lurked within whatever ghost of a heart this engine of destruction might have possessed.
Though true enough as it was, that as the wills of the Black Waltz and the Dark Crystal became one, an interesting feat was occurred as the creature transformed before Garland’s very eyes. An elaborate lightning storm danced about them; the dark knight never flinching, even as stone was reduced to charred earth near his very feet. The grip upon Rebellion only tightened; a precaution should the Crystal’s strength prove too great for the mage’s sanity to bear. Such was not the case, as even within this new, feasibly more powerful form, it retained the ability to carry this conversation to its conclusion. With an affirmation of its new orders, its new sense of purpose, Garland watched on as the mage shot to the darkened sky. His gaze remained on the storm that soon cleared after the creature’s departure, silent as he reveled in another premonition of Chaos birthed to life.
It was a success.
It was proof to Garland that all was coming to pass, just as Chaos had foretold. Slowly, but surely, light would become eclipsed by darkness, discord would rise, and then finally the eternal chains of this cycle would be clasped upon the worlds. Garland would taste immortality again, of this he remained certain. The helm of the demon lowered, to regard the barren spot the Waltz once stood upon, and the future now set in motion by the hands of his own far future self. Garland had held doubt that the mage, of all things, would have been of the preordained by the God to serve to champion his will. Though there was an unmistakable cruelty that belied behind those still eyes, within the dark underneath that weathered, patched hat. If Chaos believed that a being such as the Waltz was fit to serve this purpose, Garland would not dare to question fate’s scripture. The course of his own direction would now shift, toward destiny, and vengeance.
Garland regarded an opened palm, as he considered the path within his hands he was to undertake. A road to traverse that would leave terror and fear in his wake. To sew the other seeds of darkness, to snuff out the lights within the remaining Warriors, these sights Garland would stand before to bear witness to. For the shackles to be truly tightened upon these worlds, it was require, it was fated that he see these events transpire. Only now was to determine the next step which Chaos intended his self of the distant past to undertake. The fingers of his hand would tighten into a fist, as Garland turned to look upon the Vale that observed the dark valley. Dark towers to guard even darker hearts perhaps? A keep of shadow such as this surely held a secret that may benefit the will of the God. Garland would then make to leave behind this plateau of fate.
It was time to call upon the master of this Vale.
The thread has ended.
@blackwaltz3
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