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The Pumpkin King's fall [EXTREMELY PRIVATE: Yima] Empty The Pumpkin King's fall [EXTREMELY PRIVATE: Yima]

Post by Etzolix on November 4th 2008, 8:47 pm

Halloween Town, the home of the Pumpkin King, the home of a great leader, the home of a former friend. Etzolix had come here of his own accord, not commanded by his leader, not commanded by any force besides his own. On this ebony night, things would be settled. The moon glowed a gloomy light, one suiting the situation, the situation was a burial. Today one of them would die, the king or the abomination. The one who tried to support the world or the one who would try to bring its downfall. Obviously the positive remarks were for Yima, what might be compliments to him would be insults to Etzolix. The reason is...being evil is more fun. He had been a hero, he had fought for justice, it was boring. When not bound to any rules excluding your superiors life ecomes more joyfilled, at least that was the way Etzolix felt. The stars did not accompany the moon, the stars were obviously not going to be witnesses. Etzolix felt that it signified his victory, the stars were afraid to see what happened. The stars that were missing, to him, were the symbol of victory...Etzolix awaited Pumpkin King Yima by the Cemetary where the charcoal grey tombstones kept him company. Ironic, they were going to battle in the cemetery, where who ever lost's body would remain until completely decayed. Etzolix awaited, his ocher eyes piercing the landscape. He scoped the area analying his surroundings to see if anyone else were here. Luckily, at least for Etzolix there would be no interferance in the battle. Etzolix's clothes ripped, and his mummy side. Bandages were wrapped around his body compeltely excluding his scalp, where his array of messy chocolatey brown spikes remained. Etzolix took a breath as the air remained silent, umoving. Was the tension already here? Was the tension waiting for the show as well? Was tension the only audience? Hopefully it would be, for audiences were so meddling and always interfered or at least attempted to. Etzolix didn't want that in the way of his...fun. His dragon insignia was invisble in the night, the permanent night Halloween town was consistently in. Etzolix was wearing his mask, his draconic mask...it suited this world. The world of fear, matched his mask's style...it was supposed to be threatening like the creatures here. THis mask also filtered his voice to make it seem even more demonic. And using that demonic voice he said

"You better hurry up, Pumpkin King"

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Post by Yima on November 16th 2008, 2:03 pm

The day had seemed washed in grim since its beginning all throughout the town, fog had crept upon the streets, blanketed, and swelled to knee height parting by the edges of a grey coat draped in moisture born on the fog's kiss a man of six feet rose his chilled furry hand to where his short nails clicked, then turning his digits hearing the desired ring he opened his abode before stepping through with the wetness that had culminated from the gathering, drops falling for moments of the rim of his coat echoing at the entry of his home. The entry way was a tall room rather than an indulgently wide one, lifting the ceiling to the third floor where the stairs ascended to his personal chambers, the closet across from the doorway next to a hardwood end table holding one cabinet below its limited place setting space Yima proceeded too unclasping his grey leather trench coat; his clasps making naught but the faintest of sounds as he turned the bald knob. In his mind the day had been calm so far, later it seemed by the clouds in the far distance it would rain, the fog had masked his body's other senses apart from his sight, he couldn't smell the rain coming simply out of the saturation of the outside air. As he pulled his hood away from his furry face the warmth inside the coat departed and hanging the coat to rest on his look alike batwing hangers he left the coat to drip onto the moss colored closet rug.

Turning his form to his dimly lit kitchen just around the corner from his closet the pumpkin king began his trek across the detailed floor matt down the hall doorless save the destination he had in mind. He finally had time to think about a few important people that had been once in his life separated from his duties as ruler or from his experiments, he had been quite active recently and grinning to himself he had no intention of slowing down. The first person trickled in, Saixor, the one who had taught him how to fight with a spear, introduced him to another interesting fellow that's name seemed to much as a shifting tide in Yima's mind to recall without distortion at the moment to his failing grin. Saixor had vanished one day, not accepting calls, not to be seen, the same as Vivi had, and they both had lived intensely different lives but still they were gone. Entering the well stocked workspace Yima set to putting some hot water on the gothic styled stove top after lighting some logs within the corresponding compartment with the section in the wood oven. His mind went back to his previous thoughts as he pulled a can of cocoa from the beaten cabinet above the warming range and with a spoon he pulled from below his counter top he deposited some of the cocoa into his favorite mug or rather the nearest one that looked clean before places the chocolate powder back. Outside of his counter top on one side of the kitchen there was a circular table that provided a surface radius of two feet coupled with three chairs with the remaining four in storage, the older teen pulled on of these chairs out swinging himself comfortably into its cold oak hold thinking of the Trickster now. He had heard plenty from Saixor on the Nobody Trickster glorifying him, he did earn that however with what he had attempted in the past and Yima would soon have to begin training his people past the standard as it stood if they would survive the attack he had promised before still hanging aloft like a dagger overhead that could at any second decide to follow the laws of gravity. There would also be preparations he would have to make himself, they would take time but if they were never instituted they would never be done. There had been a handful of people that Yima had come into contact with though their names also had faded with time. There was only one person that seemed to be active around Yima these days prior to the last five months of his life (not counting the more powerful individuals of the universe he knew out of reputation or in the case of Lenneth who was not disappearing anytime soon... he hoped) was Etzolix. Since the treasure seeking venture he had joined he had known the younger teen, had become close friends with him, and slowly watched him turn to the person he was before he too parted into thin air....

Yima rose from his seat brought back to reality by the pot’s cry streaming white, the steam’s bellowing shriek fell close with Yima’s heart on the matter of Etzolix’s fused mind. Poring some of the luke warm water into his cup Yima stirred it about with his spoon as his thoughts became agitated, he knew why Etzolix had become who he was, Inca... his name was lifting from Yima's memory also... It was then that his hand felt aflame, burning, the king looked down finding his spoon had churned the water to quickly, but his hand hadn’t let it’s gripped part clenched around the spoon as it bent to his hand’s outlining…

Sitting back into his seat with his cooling hand between his legs as his other refused to let go of the other trying to milk its pain away vainly, Yima hadn’t failed in his promise to oppose the draconic being inside his friend but still… the creature took hold and fused with him removing his free will absorbing all that his friend was. The burning his hand emanated through his nerves required attention before it worsened so pulling himself away Yima found his sink turgidly and let the liquid clear flow over his hand as his eyes set themselves half opened. He didn’t want to feel angry, that emotion clouded his judgment, his views, and his ability to help others by focusing on himself in a narrow road. Rocking his head from side to side Yima decided to do something kind for all those that had parted ways with him and the old Etzolix, the though seemed to fit. The king of hallows eve gourds cleaned his cup out in his cast iron sink and the mess on his kitchen table before proceeding back to his closet to with draw his coat. He also scanned his foyer for anything he may think he might want against heartless or other problematic situations placing all of the components to vaccinate his worries away in his grey leather bag rising with it over his shoulder soon there after leaving his house.

The staircase connecting his home to the town met with his boots clapping to his steep as the boulevard at the center of the town entrance might. He intended to look for a good spot for his friends to rest, in memory if nothing else, even Xemnas had had a memoir left behind so the custom would likely extended to their homes as well if Yima was right in thinking that the custom followed the previous ruler of the surreal realm he had visited so many months ago. The gates swung opened with clinking rasps as Yima’s arms pulled them apart allowing him to pass to the expanse between him, the forest of holidays, and between the graveyard his place of thought; a place for rest. The aged teen felt just a spark light hearted waking the dirt under his feet in puffs where the mist had stopped back at the stone stairway to this avenue, and slipping through the bars parting the path from the crypt beds Yima’s eyes widened. His mood had shifted, his hair tensed, he could feel a warmth in his face unseen by others by the patches of charcoal black lining his head. As his tinted green eyes rested on the young man before him and under his coat his forest green garments ruffed on the breezes’ embrace.

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Post by Etzolix on November 18th 2008, 8:08 pm

Enveloped in darkness, surrounded by the dusk that never left Etzolix felt eager for the moment where the two close friends would meet. The moment where the decision of who would live would come, the moment of who would survive. Survival, something all had to do to live, even though all they d is prolong life, for no matter what happens, you die in the end, mo matter what happens you will always be nothing. Whether your a valiant hero or a treacherous villain, all of it means nothing in the universe. Every day that passed was a step closer to death, every night you slept through was time where you could have left a mark. But...there was no such thing as a mark, someone would always do something spectacular, amazing, epic. Yet within a month's time it would be forgotten unless the event continued.

Rock, paper, scissors...That was life in a nutshell. You choose, you win and you lose. There is nothing else that happens, only, no matter what happens you die in the end. But your choices in life determines what other people choose, there will always be one person that stands out in your life. And that one person, wil always be able to change you, for the worse, or for the better. Either it wouldn't matter, they would have that power. Not that they wanted it, not that they craved it but because you gave it to them. That was why Etzolix was here, to eliminate that problem, to eliminate the person he gave the power to change him. The new him, the Etzolix that had changed due to Inarius, due to the spirit that used to dwell in him had changed him by making someone compeltely different. Not as power hungry as Inarius, but more willing to make havoc than h e was. Etzolix's taunting personailty was now reinforced with a battle happy fiend. Thus, creating soemone who did nice like peace, tranquility, or anything involving such things. Fun was his idea of a good time, and th eonly way to have fun was with violence...

The eighteen year old had arrived, his eyes meeting of those with the half dragon adolescent. Yima, the Pumpkin King, Etzolix's friend was now here. The battle would soon be instigated by Etzolix, not neccasarily by choice, but by nature, it was his nature to argue,, to fight, to perservere until he would win...Yima tohugh was older, more expereinced, and even Etzolix, the one who didn't fear death, felt worried that he would not win. No, not worried, more like anxious, he had awaited this fight, he had awaited a time like this, and here, in the graveyard filled with stones of dull granite, where the moon was the only source of light...except for yima. In this world of darkness and fear, in this world of never ending night, he was the light. He was here to help the citizens that inhabited this world, the citizens, who weren' afraid of the dark...

Anxiety overflowed in Etzolix's body, mind and spirit. Today was the day, more like the night where two friends clashed. Where two seemingly friends would battle, but not like a spar, not like anything they would have ever expected to happen. But a battle to the death...Etzolix was curious, would Yima be able to take his life if given the oppurtunity? Would Yima take his chance of survival first? Would this be the time where Etzolix would change him more than he was changed? Yuima had helped Etzolix though, no matter what had happened he was the support, the crutch to fall on. Etzolix thought he would always be the crutch for Yima, but what would happen today? What would happen when Etzolix was the one hurting instead of helping? Would Yima be pushed to actually attmept to kill him? Etzolix was unsure, but willing to face whatever consequences may hold. Whether it results in the death of his best friend...his brother or himself.

It was not a brothershpi of blood, or of flseh, but more of the soul. They were brothers that were to have always helped each other, but that was the old Etzolix, this was a new one, the new Etzolix was a new soul. This new soul, was not Yima's brother, this soul, was the murderer of the true Etzolix, and the new Etzolix, the current one wondered if Yima had yet realized that. If he had realized that, if he had realized this is the new Etzolix. That he had decided to not go back, to not change to the old ways. Instead, the new Etzolix, had decided on killing his own best friend, brother...no..former friend and brother. Today was one of change, it was a lose lose thing for Etzolix. Only, he did not know it yet, if he did winm which he planned too he would forever live the life of seclusion..like the one he had lived the entire time in his orphanage...the time where he knew what real darkness was, where he had first made his encounter with darkness...and was aware.

Etzolix stood, calling forth the Helm of Dracona, more commonly caled the Draconic helmet, alone he walked toward yima in a posture that was easily brimming with confidence. "So, you have arrived Pumpkin King..." Etzolix said this, his voice just as demonic as it usually was in this helmet, just how it normally was when he wore it. The feeling of it against his skin once more was refreshing, he could feel the darkness within it course through his veins. Etzolix enjoyed it and took a breathe before he said this, the one question that came to his mind...

"Are you ready to die?"

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Post by Yima on December 8th 2008, 12:00 am

Inarius's words seared Yima's patient ears the way a rancher might drive his marker onto his cattle's unblemished flesh, branding them with fiery glow caste iron, or rather here for the Pumpkin King it was the moment he wouldn’t forget as a tear formed in his left eye alone without brothers or sisters to join it. In this moment the older teen's body felt as an ice cap far from any place save itself being the plain of being, wanting to shiver without motion while a inner heat wore away at his lapse, and his heart ached in his chest bleeding out what he had suppressed with unfinished thoughts. The period of time he stood there clenching his teeth behind his lips stretching his ink blot sideburns trailing down his cheeks showing a hint of anger brooding below his clavicle. He had been so close to Etzolix, Inarius had been there breaking his friend down gradually, taking him apart, drawing his interests onto a darker shade, trapping him far away from Yima's reach, baiting his body the way a psychological drug masters its user, warping their mind to further depart them from what had mattered to them, Yima refused to deal with those plants outside of learning how to release a person from their grasp but.. Inarius had succeeded in taking Etzolix away... even doing everything in his power hadn't been enough, and feeling a wispy hotness trickle into his blood with rising tempo with each passing of his clock's reverberating tick a mile away slashing the burnt emanations in his ears Yima pulled himself away from the pit of rage centimeters from the edge of his motionless boots. He didn't want anger to have any place in his heart, he didn't want to hate anyone Inarius included as begrudgedly as he might be, the blood caste from Yima's clenched fist reminded him of the world around him breaking him off from his emotional lisp. Coming back the weariness he had overcome with sleep he expected hadn't come, he didn't want Inarius to have Etzolix while even so just before his eyes it had happened, the alterations were obvious within Etzolix's previous features, he was far more layered in clotted malice than Etzolix would have ever called cool just to poke his friend in the side for what he would have called an amusing reaction, the message was in the seconds of his approach, the words the permeated the air from their birth place in his throat, and looking upon him the tear that had come before waiting in its matrix duct feel as a small stream down Yima's face breaking apart and soaking back into the body where his hairs had grown weeks before when he had heard nothing of his friend.... when he hadn't looked farther than his military knowledge had searched helping those of the Halloween world... with his teeth still clenched he let his hand unlatch themselves from their resisting place with his sharp kept nails digging miniature hallows into his pulsating palms….

The friend of the friend passed.. He wanted to scream so badly out the name of the person in front of him… he didn’t know what to say though and refused himself that outlet for the emotions releasing what he hadn’t felt in months since his confrontation trying to save a friend from one of the members of an organization he was one of the sole remaining members of, later the thought there would move forward, but for now his mind focused on the graveyard and all that lay within it’s boundaries. Finally the ruler of all hallows eve let his teeth go without words to say knowing as the begin before him approached he was charged with protecting Halloween Town as well as the other holiday hideaways from danger… he had to live so he could continue to protect them… if his life ended theirs may soon after at the tender mercies of beings such as the Trickster, the promise of attack from him was still in limbo the way a hammer sits above its beloved target waiting for the motion that would bring the two together as one was beaten into place, trapped, while the other laughed within the thuds.

As a lose wind slipped betwixt the follicles that he had taken care in keeping free of the creepy crawlies of the world around them where Yima would rest his head from time to time pondering away while now he found himself where thoughts would come together. He didn’t want to hate Inarius, he wanted to hope that something good could come, that Inarius could do some good, and Etzolix could be free of the dragon’s influence. He knew at the same time how far those hopes could potentially be taking in the possibility he felt existed as a drowning sailor might breath water in before drifting into their frosty stone slumber beneath the push and pull of life‘s waves. [Vital Light; 10 Mp spent, 90 Mp remains]

Those waves drifted over Yima’s body as he stood slumped ever so slightly among the resting place of those who couldn’t feel a thing, not a touch, not a emanation of the heart, there were only two who could in the entire area with exception perhaps to the ghost dog at rest in his bed dressed with earth and a pillow of stone engraved. He didn’t hide his feelings in an attempt to protect Etzolix as he might have under another circumstance months… months ago… giving his energy light as his the casting wafted off of him without a word as his eyes drew in what might come displaying what he may intend as with his passing words caretaker emerged from air to his right hand blunt as it had always been, and his second hand materialized in his left; his seeker as a weak smile grew through his cheeks at the thought of his words, “I have been willing to risk my life for Etzolix, for him”, Yima let out of his lips with tensing muscles… if he fought it wouldn’t be for revenge or out of hate he decided inside himself as a whole while the desire plagued him as he pushed it back into a corner. Face laid sullen before the being before him waiting for a response verbal or violent with smeared burgundy at his summoned hilts.

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Post by Etzolix on December 9th 2008, 8:56 pm

Sharpened canines portruded his mouth even more as he grinned. Unfortunately Yima wouldn't be able to see it under the Helm of Dracona. The new gleam in his eyes spoke of his newfound satiasfaction. The ocher eyes did not move from the tear that remained alone, most likely how the King of Halloween felt right about now. Alone, for Etzolix, the only other person in the area wanted him dead. Ironic, Yima was like a brother to Etzolix, and now they fought. Just like some wars, brothers, fought each other for their own personal reasons. Unbelievable that things had turned out this way, ironic you could say, yet life was ironic in a twisted way, and this was one of them. It was inevitable in Etzolix's mind but it must have been somewhat of a surprise to Yima that he had actually succumb to the pwoer of darkness. Yima's reaction was, in Etzolix's mind, over exaggerated. Tension seemed to have englufed the aura in its mysterious aura. This aura though was an exilerating one, it didn't let Etzolix hesistate, this aura, this made him more anxious for the moment where Yima would actually attack him, the moment that would most likely need a lot or instigation to happen. This was an impossible mission with someone with as much restraint and consideration as Yima. To Etzolix he seemed virtually unangerable, not defenseless whatsoever. But he seemed to never really be angered by anything. Maybe he was tolerant? Or was it that he didn't like to show when he was upset? Either way something the New Etzolix, the one more aligned with Inarius had finally accomplished, succeeded in doing, and felt pleasure from his pain. Something the original Inarius always felt pleasure in doing. seomthing that just gave made his blood rush, soemthing that energized his battery you could say. Tension wasn't the only things that engulfed the area, darkness was also around them, not that of the night, but that emitting from Etzolix's heart, and his soul. It was merged with the darkness of the night though, not really anything had happened that had caused anything to change or trigger anything than more anxiousness from Etzolix, until Yima had summoned a keyblade. It was blunt, he had never seen it but could tell it was a keyblade by the gaurd and te chain. It was the real thing, and Etzolix had flinched ever so slightly. THat flinch was a natural reaction for him, he was about to attack but had restrained himself from doing so. Hopefully Yima hadn't noticed his eagerness to attack, that wasn't seomthing that would really show his control.


As the Young demon teen looked at the King od Pumpkins he had decided it was time to provoke Yima, time to actually do soemthing that would piss him off, soemthing that would make him do he had never done before, at least not to Etzolix. Etzolix wanted him to attack, to just go all out for once and let his isntincts take over. THat was his own style but it would be entertaining to see from Yima. "So, you ready to fight...? Or are you going to cry soem more? If your angry let it out, or are you going to be a coward? It's a game where you kill or get killed Pumpkin king, and your about to play it." The demon boy said this maniachlly. He had lost his sanity, he had lost his care for people, for anyone. So with that, he did a backflip and landed at the top at a grave. Slowly rocking it back and forth so it was wobbly. As it loosened and would easily fall Etzolix pushed himself of at an angle making him get launched and land on another grave stone.The one he had jumped off of had slowly fallen. If Yima didn't move out the way he would be crushed by it, at least that is what the traitor to his friend had believed. Spells of his could always help make himself do soemthing out of the ordinary. But just to bombard Yima he jumped to ones that were closer to him and did the same thing to those. Yima would have to watch out for two more graves falling on him if he avoided the first one succesfully. Cheap shots yes, but why should he care? His objective was to kill the king and that was what he planned on doing. As the grey graves would fall, dust would come from then leaving a cloud preventing each other from seeing the enemy. This was strangley fun, fighting with a reason was something Etzolix had never done as his true self. The moon shined down, as if intrigued by what was going on. This was a dark day for the king of Hallow's eve. Betrayed and now attempted murder, who would be able to imagine the stress he was going through. Most likely no one for there weren't a lot of "nice guys" in the real world. The younger teen on offensive wasn't one of them, that's for sure. Finally, he had succumb to the darkness, and his first act was to exterminate his former friends, starting with Yima. He was first for Etzolix knew where he resided, in the world of costumes, the world where no one was really what they were. Just like Etzolix was now, he was a mummy, but in a way he was, because the original Etzolix...was dead...


Etzolix now rested on a grave in the middle area where there were about five standing. He was going to continue to do this, and continue to wear Yima down in attempt to have an advantage when the fight really began, when both were fighting for there life. Etzolix was anxious for that but he had to play smart at first, because the King ruled the world for a reason. He was expereinced, yima was older than Etzolix by about three and a half years. A lot can happen in that amount of time. Etzolix would be a much better fighter if he had dedicated three years of his life to pure training. His ocher eyes scanned the are as it was effected by his actions. He hadn't seen Yima, because of the dust that had come from the graves. Yima most likely couldn't see him either unless using a spell of some sort. Patience would probably be the best thing to have during a battle with Yima. He was good at avoiding things, he knew that, he had seen his mobililty when he was breakdancing for the first time. Memories overflowed his mind for an instant. Was he still unsure? Yes, but Inarius wasn't, the one who was in dominant control. So by majority in a way, he wanted to kill Yima. As he didn't want to take any chances he held the blades of reflection in his hands. He held them so they kept him balanced on the grave while also not restricting and of his mobility. Etzolix needed to use everything to defeat Yima, because the game he had told yima about was one he was also a participant of so he couldn't hold bakc unless he wanted to die. And Etzolix knew his next target after Yima, so he couldn't afford to die, it was just soemthing that wasn't going to happen. Etzolix had a strong reason to live, and would only lose if Yima found a reason that gave him more motevation than Etzolix's reason did. The battle would be hard, long and epic. And who ever was victorious wouldn't be the same mentally ever again...Who would be after killing there best friend, after enduring a battle not only with the other person but an internal conflict within themselves. Things such as this effected the battle. Yet, Etzolix had seperated himself from that, he had cleared his mind and focused on the battle, and had promised himself to win, and Yima, could vouch he didn't break promises...and this is the most important promise he had to keep.

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I made this selfish war machine.
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