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In Need of Help (Private, Yima)

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In Need of Help (Private, Yima) Empty In Need of Help (Private, Yima)

Post by Forte on November 22nd 2009, 6:02 am

Forte hung on to the reins that held the yellow bird that hurried towards the town from the graveyard, his ship having landed in the graveyard. Squawkles moving with urgency, trying it's best not to move too fast or too slow. The Governor could hear his heart pounding away inside his head, and he breathed heavily. His right hand clutched his chest, attempting to stop the bleeding. Forte was a bloody mess. His mouth was wet with blood, his clothes were stained crimson and torn apart in several places, exposing his wounds. His left hand hung limply, and Forte tried his best not to use his arm. Sometimes, he would forget, and then sharp pain would shoot up and cause him to yell in anguish. His eyes were opened wide, and his face showed fatigue, and yet you could see him clearly fighting against the fatigue, to keep his eyes from closing and to keep himself from "sleeping". The never ending night of Halloween Town seemed to add to the spooky atmosphere that hung thickly in the air, and the fear of death gripped his heart. But Forte knew that he would be safe. His acquaintance, Yima, was the ruler of this world, and if he could manage to make his way there, he would be able to find help. He had heard that Yima was a skilled healer, and that was why he had punched in the coordinates for Halloween Town in the autopilot without any hesitation.

In his right hand he held a letter to explain to Yima what had happened to him, and this is it's contents.

Yima.
I am writing this after my battle with MorpheusZero at the Land of Dragons. He has injured me greatly and I had to turn to you for help. My arm appears to be broken and there are two slashes on my chest. When you are reading this I should probably be there already, probably almost dead.

Your acquaintance from that fateful meeting in The World That Never Was,
Forte


Soon, he arrived before the sprawling mansion in town that the Pumpkin King lived in, and Forte struggled to get off the Chocobo. He turned around to face the large bird, placing his right hand on the top of it's head. "Buddy...Go back to the ship..I'll...Be fine." The blue haired youth said, and struggled to grin at the bird. The bird seemed worried for a bit, but obeyed Forte, and raced back towards the ship. He turned towards the mansion, knocked a few times on the door, and then lost consciousness.



(Squawkles the Chocobo used, 140 MP left.)

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In Need of Help (Private, Yima) FortesResizedPostcount
Max MP - 160
Governor of Traverse Town
In Need of Help (Private, Yima) Rozelux2In Need of Help (Private, Yima) Rozelux
In Need of Help (Private, Yima) 162856
Forte
Forte

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Post by Yima on November 23rd 2009, 7:38 pm

The ever present night had not taken the feeling of day away from the ruler of the realm cloaked in pale grey leather drawn down to the center of where his tibia lay shrouded in flesh. He stood upright on the second story of his home no more than five feet from a banister leading down to the entry way hall adorned with pictures drawn with oil based paints depiction the world around the large dwelling. He had a lot on his mind right now and taking each choice into consideration was something he preferred to do especially if they considered with his personal morals. The primary consideration for him now was Shi, how he would train him, and knowing he was a keyblade user was a good thing because that was something they both shared in common; there was a decreasing number of keyblade users as well which also worried the pumpkin king as he began his decent toward his foyer. There was no longer a moment spent than his grasp set on the banister railing had seven resonating throaty howls rung over the night air all likely coming from the werewolves stalking the streets for those that might wish the town harm; they were lower end parts of the military and acted this way only when they had cause. With a tinge of concern in the back of his head Yima continued his decent passing the ornamental paintings hanging all by metal threads tied to their backs.

Opening the entry way to his home his eyes immediately feel on a creature cloaked in flames of misty azure hue though his skin would resemble something more akin to un-worked stone the fact he had left no scorch marks on Yima's porch gave the king pause leaning down to his mysterious visitor. There was a letter neatly resting on his doormat, so with a curious expression he inspected he package opening it with assurance it wasn't trapped, and read through the contents. He knew there was a chance that the being beneath him could be a spy or threat though his heart told him otherwise and so he picked the shorter of the two up carefully sliding himself beneath him floating just above ground on his back then into the mansion. The best room to look him over for injury would be in the comfort of a guest room, the closest one to the entrance was preferable he believed though it would still take the average person a half an hour to find their way out of the mansion from there. The room he chose had been graced with a comfortable queen sized bed, a ever-burning torch on each wall that kept from starting any fire even if attempted, a bed side table, three chairs, a dark shaded wood desk, and a oval floor rug detailed with the memorable leaders of the town past as well as the ruler now with the images of the townsfolk dancing around the edge lining. Laying on the bed was a delicate process of tilting him of the platform Yima had made himself without simply dropping him like a ton of bricks. Inspecting him for his injuries Yima gathered the necessary apparatus to stabilize his arm, he further inspected to see just how much energy the younger man had in him deciding against using his magic for now knowing if it turned out he didn't have the life force he would die in that bed. He also reached into his leather strap bag to retrieve his Herb Grenade Type A piercing the lining with his fingernail he let the chemical concoction leak over his guest’s wounds sealing anything left open with a white secure foam. From here he could tend to the minor aspect of caring for his visitor and wait to see if he would awaken propped in one of the three oak chairs sitting just beside the bed with a bowl of water and a rag set atop the bedside stand.

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Post by Forte on November 24th 2009, 12:40 pm

Forte hung in the air, his eyes closed serenely for a few moments. Around him was thick, pitch black darkness, and strange forms of darkness seemed to circle around him, leering at him. The Governor twitched uneasily in his sleep as he dreamed. The darkness awaited for his life to end, and in his dream Forte could only struggle in vain as his body refused to response. The darkness lashed at him and then he could see nothing. "Am I...dead?" The youth thought to himself, and then, he felt a sharp blade pierce through his heart. But then, a strange cooling sensation enveloped his body. He felt his pain from his injuries go away, and for a short moment, he relaxed. The darkness of his nightmare seemed to go away for a bit, and as though reaching the light at the end of the tunnel, Forte could see light rushing in as his eyes opened. His vision was slightly blurry at first, but after blinking for a bit he noticed that he was in a different place. The youth instantly notice that the light that danced around the room was from a flame, and he could hear it's soft flickering and with it he could see the light flickering as well. That, along with the strange chemical that seemed to momentarily end his pain, seemed to be incredibly soothing. Forte was, for the moment, relaxed, and he let out a soft groan as he fought to sit up. His injuries were still there however, and the strength needed to sit up, along with the pain fought against him to prevent him from doing so to prevent him from hurting himself any further. Doing something like that would simply agitate his wounds, after all. Forte groaned as he finally just let his body relax and his head finally sunk into the pillow once more. And then he turned his head. His burning eyes fell onto a strange creature that seemed like half a werewolf, dressed in green. He was reclining on a fine chair made of good quality oak, and he seemed to be still awake, perhaps waiting for Forte to wake up. The human, who changed appearances in this world to a burning azure fire demon, blinked for a few seconds, then noticed that there were two other chairs beside the bed, and a small table directly beside him. A small bowl filled with a colorless liquid, which Forte guessed was water, and a rag rested on top of the table. He then wondered if that werewolf was Yima, and Forte looked at his broken arm, which was encased in some sort of cast, probably to prevent him from moving it and further hurting himself.

He groaned for a bit, and then looked back at the werewolf. For a few seconds he remained silent, and then he spoke. "Yima?" Forte asked. He lay there, wondering what the creature intended to do with him if he wasn't Yima, and what sort of answer he would give.

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In Need of Help (Private, Yima) FortesResizedPostcount
Max MP - 160
Governor of Traverse Town
In Need of Help (Private, Yima) Rozelux2In Need of Help (Private, Yima) Rozelux
In Need of Help (Private, Yima) 162856
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