Terrified [Scortio]

In all the years Scortio had either been training under Pyre or living his life as Master of the Hellfire Keyblade, he'd never witnessed a world like this.  Sure, he'd heard that they keyblade had the power to alter one's appearance to fit a world, but he'd never had the chance to witness it with his own eyes...until now.

Scortio stepped out from his own light created corridor to see his appearance had taken on quite a dramatic turn.  He had on a partial headpiece that looked as if he were adorned with a pair of goat horns, and his skin had taken on a slight reddish hue.  His clothes, meanwhile, all looked as if they were faded from years of use.  He noticed his hands now had a slight claw like appearance and he had a bit of an overbite and had two sharp teeth hanging down from his mouth.  Neat!

"Well hot damn!  Pyre told me some worlds would do this to me, but never thought I'd see it happen!"

After a quick once over to see the somewhat impressive new design, he walked down the hill and took a look at his surroundings.  It was a weird hill that had kinda curled at the tip, and around it were several tombstones.  This was a pretty dark looking world, but it definitely wasn't to be judged by its cover.

The hot headed keybearer took a leisurely pace as he began to wander around, looking for signs of life from the spooky world.  His walk eventually took him to a cobbled stone path, after walking though small graveyard after graveyard.  He followed the path until he rounded the corner and took a second to take in the scene.  A fountain was in the process of spewing a green liquid, a large guillotine sat out as if public executions were common here, and he was pretty sure he just saw a being lift its head from its shoulders to scratch between his shoulder blades.  Definitely an odd world, but these weren't Heartless.

Finally, his eyes settled on commotion when he saw and arrow launch at an unsuspected short and stubby man with two faces.

"Please don't hurt me!  I'm only an elected official!  I don't know what to do!"

That was all Scortio needed to hop into action.  A small red blaze burst out from his right hand as he immediately launched his key at the attacker.  The key began to spin at high speeds and lit itself on fire as it took on a Fire Raid towards the mysterious assailant.

"Hey!  Why don't you attack somethin' that'll fight back!  I don't care if ya are a woman, I'll still beat ya!"

Just as the mayor was about to get a new breathing hole, the assailant threw up her guard and called off the attack. Scortio knew immediately that this one had some skill, at least enough to defend herself against an attack like his fire raid. However, that wasn’t what he took from the encounter. He was more moved by the fact that she recognized a keyblade.

”Yeah, this here is the Hellfire key. An’ I’m gonna stop ya because I ain’t letting ya beat on that guy. If you reckon yer still gonna need to beat on a harmless citizen, then I’ll have ya beat on you a little bit.”

While this was a bit of a spooky world, it didn’t mean the people here were the darkness kind. Scortio had seen people in way more inviting worlds that were closer to the darkness than anyone here. Part of his training included six months of observation of various worlds. It was a training meant to teach the wielder to blend in on the various worlds, just in case any future conflicts required him to journey amongst the worlds.

He was actually on this world, and many more like it, on a mission. He needed to begin to train another to inherit his key. Scortio knew what kind of kid he wanted to bring to Trinity Towers. He needed someone who wasn’t going to give up and had an unquenching resolve. Hellfire wasn’t a key that belonged to a quitter and if Pyre was right it would be needed when the 2nd Keyblade War came about.

Scortio stepped forward to further confront the Heartless.

”I’m gonna give ya one last chance. Get the hell outta dodge or quit beatin’ on the locals. I’ll not be having’ ya bruise up a denizen of the this here light. Ain’t his fault he’s funny lookin’.”

As Scortio finished the small, squat little man hobbled off into the distance, yelling for someone called Jack. Hopefully it was someone who could protect him if he failed.

Scortio held his fiery key in hand, waiting for whoever this was to back down before he ‘beat the tar out of her.’

Hellfire was not the most famous key from the wars, so Scortio had heard, but it was known for one thing: a relentless, unyielding passion that it’s original wielder had carried into battle. Time had forgotten the name of that master, or the master who followed him, but the legacy of the key had remained. Scortio spent a large amount of his time training learning of many of the most famous keys that now stood without light, plucked into the earth of the graveyard. He’d heard of Starshine, Deepstroke, Gigas Shield, and Rapture. The legacies of each were much grander than his, but his still had a shine. Scortio’s key, Hellfire, still had an immense passion that carried it from battle to battle.

Here, this possible opposition had threatened and actually assaulted the denizens of this world. However, something stopped Scortio this time. He listened to Morne’s monologue long enough to catch a clue. It may have sounded crazy, but Morne may have been a wielder herself. He caught something that may have been remorse in her voice as she talked of the key he carried. She spoke of losing everything he held dear...because it had happened to her.

”Ya know, you got me pegged perdy darn well, but just because I’m willin’ to defend this here fella doesn’t mean I’m itchin’ fer a fight. For th’ most part, I’ll avoid it when I can. Wait...you used ta have a key? Damn. Then why’d ya attack someone like tha’? He didn’t do nuthin ya deserve it. Wielders of the keyblades are ‘sposed to preserve the light and stuff. Ain’t yer ticker pointing ya in the right direction?”

In another flash of bright red flame, Scortio released his keyblade, taking it away from the field. Part of him was keeping this civil so that anyone else around could escape the scene, and part of him was now generally interested in the person in front of him. It could be she thought he was a mindless Hearltless like the ones outside of town, but he couldn’t be sure.

He knew there should be fear in him at the moment, but that just wasn't the case.  The assailant chastised him for lowering his guard, and dashed forward to put a blade at Scortio's throat.  Scortio had lowered his guard, because he no longer saw the need for combat.  This man wasn't going to attack unless threatened, and the small denizen had already escaped behind a nearby gated house.  Scortio knew he should have fear in his eyes at the very apparent power play, but instead he only felt anxious.  The part of him that saw fighting as an addictive substance roared in triumph, but he kept his head level.  His eyes, instead of showing fear, showed his eagerness, but his mind kept him in check.

"I dunno if I'd really call it innocence.  I've kinda been taught ta read people a little bit.  Not really picking up a murderin' vibe from ya.  My master taught me to read people and l picked it perdy well."

As the mysterious man released his hold on Scortio, he instinctively rubbed the area and smirked.  Again, he'd read that the man wouldn't start anything, at least not yet, but that didn't stop the feeling that he was slightly let down by the relaxed demeanor or this guy.  Scortio could tell that he'd seen some nasty events in his past.  He had that look in his eyes, a scarred look that easily highlights the unfortunate signs of a battle hardened fighter.

"Ya know, I gots to ask...how long's it been since ya lost 'em?  I can tell ya 've lost someone, and its been long enough that you've partially moved on, but it still weighs heavy.  I tell ya 'gain, ya can tell a lot about a man from them eyes."

Scortio walked over to the edge of the steps leading down to the weird, green, gargoyle fountain-thing and sat at the top step.  It wasn't really an invite, but he wasn't going to turn the man down either.  A lot of times it helps to talk about loss from time to time, and Scortio knew that.  He hadn't lost anyone to combat himself, but he'd seen those same eyes in his master before.  His master had fought a dark keybearer in the years past and it had taken the life of many close to him.  He had always told Scortio that the look in a persons eyes rarely changes, and when it does it means something bad has happened.

The guy in front of Scortio had a pretty twisted way of thinking, at least in the red-headed keybearer's point of view.  He saw himself as a dark creature capable of naught but destruction, but Scortio saw something else.  He saw someone who was trying to repent for sins of the past, and was probably being harder on himself than he should.  Scortio simply shook his head in disbelief as he called himself a killer and a murderer.  Once again, he saw a lot in this guy's eyes, but it wasn't the eyes of a killer.  These weren't necessarily the eyes of someone bent on destruction, but he knew they weren't innocent either.  No doubt about it, this guy had done something nasty, but he was definitely torturing himself.

Then he continued on about Scortio's master.  Pyre was Scortio's master and closest friend.  Hell, for most of his life, it was really the only person he could look up to.  He had a family, but he hadn't really seen them since he was little due to the rigorous training Pyre had put him through.  He was small enough then that he didn't even know how to get to his homeworld anymore, nor did even know what it was called.  Maybe, eventually, he would return there, but that was for him to worry about later.

"Pyre's kinda stern, and really a no nonsense kinda guy.  He's a good man...got a level head on his shoulders.  Truth be told, I ain't really seent him a bit.  He went off and started doin his own thing a few years ago, after I passed the Mark of Mastery."

Scortio stood up and dusted himself off from the dirty cement stairs by quickly using his hand to brush his behind off.  In a fiery flare Hellfire reappeared in his hand.

"Ya know, if it weren't fer him, I wouldn't 've got ol' Hellfire here.  I guess this key goes all the way back to the big ass Keyblade War."

He stood there, admiring his key, awaiting a response from the strange man in front of him.  He could tell from the other guy's reaction that he was at least vaguely familiar with the keyblade, so he wasn't as secretive about the keyblade as he should be.  Apparently, the wielder of Hellfire during the war was a great fighter.  He led two brothers in a massive battle against a group of ten keybladers and the three of them came out on top.  Of course, nearly everyone at the Keyblade Graveyard perished, but there was a group that managed to get away to safety just in time.  This group was the original wielder of Hellfire, Diamond Dust, and Judgement Bolt.

What in the world was going on here?  Scortio had just been talking to the strange man in a creepy world, but something happened and he suddenly started mumbling.  All he had done was summoned his key, and the guy started mumbling something about three brothers and a platoon.  What the hell was he going on about?  It was almost as if the sight of his key had triggered something in him as if he suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The strange man put his hand on Scortio's shoulder, and, as he did, asked if there were others with elemental blades.  However, as he did, his voice began to change as if something were possessing him.  How in the world did he know about Diamond Dust and Judgement Bolt?  He'd barely began to talk about Hellfire and this guy just starts flipping out.

"Listen man, the hell you talkin' 'bout?  Yeah, there's that there Diamond Dust and Judgement Bolt keys, but how the name of all tha's holy did ya know tha' one?"

Scortio wanted to wince at the strength of his grip, but he held it off as the strange voice continued.  He mentioned something about holding them off until he arrived.  He was now slurring his words, and it was is if something else had taken control of his body.  The hotheaded keyblade master now held his key firmly in his grasp.  Combat may be necessary if he continued to get any further aggression, but Scortio was still exercising caution at the moment.

"Hey!  Yer gonna have ta' lighten yer grip.  I'm warnin' ya, BACK OFF!"

He knew something unnatural was going on so he let his senses take over.  Was it darkness controlling him?  He noticed something strange: there was no trace of darkness or light within this man.  In fact it was oddly familiar to the strange man he'd fought in the empty castle, Xemnas.  It was like he shouldn't exist at all.  What in the hell was going on here?

"Yer one of them there nothing people!  I fought one of you guys at a castle!"

Things had gotten weird real quick.  Scortio wasn't really sure what to do.  The nothing man had started to chant something to himself, but the burning keybearer couldn't quite make out what it was.

"Uh...what tha hell's goin' on here?"

Scortio subconsciously stepped backwards staring at the man as his arrow thingies turned...was that a keyblade?  Was this guy a keyblader too?  How on earth...  That didn't seem like a normal keyblade transformation.  It was..unnatural.

There was a more pressing matter.  This guy was freaking out and Scortio had a decision to make.  He would either half to put this guy down for awhile, or let it run its course and confront him later.  All of the innocent bystanders were out of the area and he couldn't hear anything aside from the noises they were making.  Therefore, he had nobody else to worry about.

"The hell is he goin' on about?"

Scortio wasn't scared of the man.  It was nothing like that, but he knew that this man's blind freakout was going to end up in him attacking Scortio.  Something triggered this psychological...and physical? transformation and all he could hear was Pyre's teachings.  Pyre told him time after time not to be a dumbass and rush in blindly when the situation changed.  Usually, Scortio ignored it, but somehow he had the feeling he should get the hell out of dodge for awhile and give this guy a shout in the future.  It was probably due to the face that the dude's freaking eyes merged in and disappeared off his damn face.  What the hell?!

Scortio opened a corridor of light behind himself.

"Listen, yer gonna have to calm the hell down...I'm gonna let ya stew fer awhile."

With that Scortio stepped backwards into the light, closing the doorway behind him.  His last sight was the strange face of the nothing man and the twisted key-arrow thing.

-Exit Thread-