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11.1.2017 - Kingdom Hearts RP is now closed. We'd like to thank everyone who invested time on the site for contributing to a wonderful experience which lasted for many years. All stories must eventually end, but while this may seem bittersweet, it can't be stressed enough what a pleasure it was to create and share them with you all. Goodbye everyone.


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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
They say that once upon a world
A man was cut in twain.
One half of him embraced the light,
While in the other Darkness had its say.
The two sides fought and brought their conflict
To the realm of mortal men
Each merging with a host so their conflict could have an end.
They brought their war upon troubled hearts
Who became the monsters among all men.
Dissentientibus they were called,
For their inner conflict had no end.
That part of the story is over.
And soon the book will close.
But if you'd wish to turn back time
I'll tell you what I know.

<|3~Conflicted Hearts

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
(I have decided that I will use this to post Alexander's Dives to the Heart. Should it arise, I will also chronicle the more personal character altering situations he faces should anybody decide to take a peek.)

Alexander was falling. He didn't remember how it started, and he didn't know from where he fell, but he was falling. Rather than the sheer helplessness and fear one might feel while free falling through the air, he felt serenity. Pure, beautiful serenity. He dived through the large, white clouds and fell within their womb, emerging from the other side into the cold air as the white mist outstretched after him, calling him back into the sky. he was smacked by sharp, cold air, letting out a surprised wail. his eyes opened, curious and eager to learn. Below him, he could see a grand city-scape. It sprawled beneath, the ever expanding pinnacle of the history of civilization. People moved, cars bustled, and he saw all of this in one sweeping glance.
He outstretched his hands, trying to hold the world in his palms as he fell. He wanted to rescue it from fate, from certainty. While the world expanded at first, it was being reduced in size and scale for at its very edges darkness gnawed, unraveling all the love and life that had gone into the creation of something worth living for. The closer he drew to the city, the less of it there was. He fell faster and faster as his momentum increased, and the darkness matched him second for second. Before long, a single skyscraper remained in an ocean of dark blue water. As he reached out for it from above, trying to hold onto the last vestiges of a lost past, it sank swiftly and silently beneath the waves.
He would soon follow, vanishing into those unknowable depths that somehow knew everything. He would be engulfed by the water, its fingers prodding him at first, and then grabbing him and pulling him under. He slammed into that blue body of infinite grace and life, and was dragged down into its depths. Soon, he was in a place that even light dare not tread. Here, at the bottom of the ocean, he was consumed by fear as darkness became his world. With his serenity gone, he struggled and screamed as his sense of orientation was lost to himself, and began to flip and flail blindly in the dark. But soon he landed, feet on the ground, in the deepest part of nothing.
The ground beneath him seemed to shatter, and glowing white doves surrounded him. Below his feet was a light in the darkness-- a beautiful and intricate design stared into him, and he felt a twinge of familiarity. The dark ocean floor peeled back into a circle, and then stopped. An ornate ring of hearts provided the outlines. A line went down the middle, dividing the large heart in the middle into two. On the left side, the black half of the large heart was encased in a black crescent moon. On the right, the white half exuded drawn out rays of sunlight. On either side were two figures, one black and one white, each holding a key chain in hand with a heart of the same color. On the side with the white heart and figure, a beautiful city went on into the background. On the side with the black heart and figure, a destroyed city burned in the starry night.
A voice called out to him, silent yet all encompassing. "Do you remember?" He felt compelled forward, walking over to the white figure and kneeling down. He placed his hand on the white heart that dangled from a string-like chain. "Do you remember what you've sewn?" He stood up, looking around curiously for the source of the voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere around him. He turned to the other side of the circle, seeing a dark mass rise out of the black figure. "You'll have to reap it eventually." It outstretched its arm, palm open and summoned a rather large key. "Keyblade." The word lingered until Alexander realized its familiarity. The Keyblade his opponent held had a black hand-guard and handle, with decorations that resembled dragon wings adorning it. Its blade was long and black, with its teeth part resembling a gnarled heart.
He responded in kind by summoning his own. He opened his palm, and willed it to come. In his hand, a Keyblade appeared with a white and gold handle, with angel wings as accents on the silver hand-guard. Its blade was also long, but gold instead of black. It had a spear like tip on it, and a series of heart-like patterns for teeth. The figure leapt forward, swinging its blade down towards Alex. Alexander quickly put up his blade and deflected his blow, but the figure hit him with a blast of concentrated cold air. He flew back, dropping the Keyblade as he hit the ground and skid along it. His Keyblade embedded itself into the ground, and the black figure walked up to it. He grabbed its key-chain and yanked on it, breaking it off. The blade itself looked unchanged, but Alexander felt in his heart that it was broken. The figure pocket the chain and returned to the black image. It melted into the ground, casting a wayward backwards glance at him full of spite and pity. Alex stood, and walked over to his Keyblade. A small clang came from beside it, seeing a little key-chain with the silhouette of a mouse head landing from somewhere above. He picked it up, and looked at his blade.
"Until you remember," the voice began, "you are a broken Keyblade wielder." He placed the key-chain on to his blade, and it changed into a Kingdom Key. Then, he felt himself sinking. He looked down, seeing the darkness already around his knees. He grabbed the hilt of his blade and tried to pull it from the ground, but it didn't budge. He clung to it tightly as he sunk to his waist. "Let go," the voice said. He refused, gripping it even tighter. "Let it go." He felt his grip slipping, and started pulling as hard as he could. His hand slipped, and he felt himself fall. The voice became louder. "Even after forgetting, you are still to conflicted to conquer your own heart."
Alex screamed, waking up in a neatly made bed. He sat up quickly, throwing the covers off of him and jumping out onto the soft carpet beneath his feet. He looked around, bewildered. Where the hell was he? He backd up, plastering himself against the wall. he looked down, examining himself. His white T-shirt was fresh and clean, and next to the bed were his brown cargo shorts neatly folded into a pile. The room was extremely plain, just a bed and a closet at present. The red carpet between his toes was comforting at least, but he reasoned that he mustn't be alone in this house. Somebody had to have folded these clothes, and he was sure he didn't. Come to think of it, he didn't recall even having a bed. Trying to think harder, he realized he didn't recall really ANYTHING. He knew his name. He remembered how to speak English. He knew preferences, skills.... but nothing else. He was doing something, he felt it. He was in the middle of doing something important. But now, it was beyond his grasp.
He looked over, noting the door on yonder wall. Peeling himself away from the wall behind him, he lightly tread over and turned the doorknob. With a small jump it came free, and opened silently. He pushed it outward, and walked into a small hallway. It to, had carpet. It went in two directions. Down the hall, their were two doors. To the immediate right, the hall lead into a large room. Alex cautiously slipped out of the door, and peered into the large room. He didn't see anybody, but smelt the distinct odor of waffles. This peeked his interest (waffles are his favorite, you see) and he slipped around the corner, viewing the whole of the large room. There was an older, retro style couch with purple cushions, a wooden coffee table, and a bright green bowl chair. This is a simple house he noted, the odor of waffles becoming stronger as he eased toward what could only be the kitchen.
He poked his head inside seeing a plate of fresh waffles, a stick of butter, and a bottle of syrup atop a small dining table. The only utilities were a stove-oven, and an old toaster. A leaky sink sat in the corner and-- doesn't matter, waffles first. A little slip of paper lay on top of his fork and knife, which themselves were laid strait and neat upon a napkin. He saw that there was nobody in this kitchen, and after a few mere seconds set upon the waffles. He initially tossed the paper aside, proceeding to stuff his face with the crunchy deliciousness before him. In moments, he was finished. He stood up, pausing momentarily to pick up the slip of paper and continuing back into the living room. He headed for the bowl chair, feeling an immediate connection with it, and sat inside of it and fell limp.
For a few minutes more he laid there, enjoying peace. Odd, he might have thought he hadn't ever had peace for a while. Of course, he didn't really remember, and but it bothered him less and less. He knew that he had left something unfinished, but thoughts of the future were slowly overtaking him. Unconsciously, he raised the note and read it silently. The first line read "Don't eat these waffles. They're poisoned."
Alex's eyes went very wide, and he uttered a quiet, "Oh, shit."
He read further. "Just kidding. But if I wasn't you'd be dead."
A small sigh escaped his lips. Note to self: don't eat strange waffles anymore. He contemplated that for a second, concluding There's a problem when I don't already know that./
He continued reading the note. "I'll bet you have a lot of questions-- where you are for one thing. This is your new house in Traverse Town."
Traverse Town? Nope, the name did not ring a bell.
"There are good people here-- people who can help you get stronger. And trust me, you'll need strength for the coming nightmare. Just go out, look around. I recommend finding a way to make some munny. I only left you 1000. It should last you a while if you use it sparingly. That means clothes. As in, you have nothing but the shirt and pants I brought you here in." Alex quickly remembered that he was in his boxers, and was suddenly glad that nobody else lived here. His own house. Huh. That felt nice, to be on his own. But then it felt terrible, because he was all alone. Independence was a far cry from not needing friends. He resolved-- today he'd learn the ins-and-outs of Traverse Town. He walked back into his bedroom, in his house (he couldn't stop emphasizing it to himself) still reading the note. "Good luck Alexander. You'll need it if you're to return to full strength, and then ascend beyond. ---Gray Light"
"Huh." Alexander slipped on his cargo pants, buttoning them and then exiting his room. Those two rooms down the hallway would need to be explored later. For now, he had other matters to attend to. He walked into the living room, and then into the kitchen. Towards the back was a heavy wooden door. On the stove was a large skeleton key. On its side the words 'House Key' were engraved. Okay, he thought. New place. No memories. He said this with a frown. Then, he smiled. Blank slate. He pushed open his door, entering the second district of Traverse Town. it was time to find some clothes, and he was in luck. There was a store called 'Dress&Stuff' close by, as he had now seen from across the way. First stop.

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
(Alexander to the Traitor before he lost his memories)
"I guess... It was always going to end this way. I would be here, alone for the most part watching you, a creature by now, peeling away my whole world, and everything I ever knew. I would be bound, weak, motionless, and desperately trying to break free while your madness infected everything like a virus. You walked around my whole world, like it was just a room from corner to corner and tore down wall paper and photos and knocked over my lamp... for what? No reason other than because you had become a monster, and now you wanted to exercise that power, and your newly discovered potential for chaos. But I know why you became a monster. I saw what the world had done to you, and god, how I wanted to help you. I really did. But whenever I tried to get close, that aura of yours would burn me. It pushed me away. I could have stopped this. I could have ended all of it.
Instead I let your wounds fester, and to a lesser extent you were infected by all the hatred in our conflcit. And this is what happens, when your thoughts are consumed by what you can't have. You become embittered, you become enraged, and you become no better than the very animals that the rest of us seek to tame. And i'm sorry I couldn't end your life and spare you of your own madness before it became much too late."


Last edited by bionicwoodstock on May 28th 2012, 12:02 am; edited 1 time in total

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
Alexander was feeling lucky. He had just survived an extremely difficult battle. This was mostly thanks to Mystic and Cool, not to mention Tornado. He had a bit of a spring to his step as he entered back into the second district, his door coming into view. His open door-- the one he had locked when he left. He walked up to the door, pushing it open quietly but with a hint of anger. He’d already almost died today, and he’d faced down creatures of pure darkness. He certainly feared no thief.
He barged into his kitchen, disregarding caution but moving silently nonetheless. He could see a figure lying on his couch. He approached it, and summoned his Keyblade. He brought it to rest over the form, and called out to it. ”Why are you in my house?” His voice boomed with fury, and the figure leapt up. It nimbly evaded his strike down, flipping over to the other side of the room. It was a girl. She was a very beautiful girl at that. Also, she had an arrow trained on Alexander. Her arrow tip was red, like fresh blood. It dripped down the shaft and brought attention to the white riser. Her dainty, but powerful fingers rested held the black string back, taunt and ready to fire.
They had a stand-off, the two of them. For the longest time, they stood with eyes locked onto each other. They watched the other person’s movements carefully. Those seconds they stood there felt like hours. Then, she spoke. “Alex?” Her voice was strong, but doubtful. “Alexander Edamows?”

“How do you know my name?” He lowered his weapon slightly, before regaining his guard. She knew his name. This was not possible.

She kept her arrows trained on him. “Let me see your chest.”

“What? No.”

“Show me your chest, or so help me God I will shoot.”

His brow furrowed. Then, it softened. He saw a tear in her eyes. “You’re crying?”

“Please don’t make me shoot.” Alexander kept his eyes forward. He thrust his Keyblade into the floor violently, cracking the wood around it. She flinched slightly, but kept her bow steady. He lifted his shirt, revealing the large emblem on his chest. The Left half: a white heart surrounded by the rays of the sun. The right: a black heart, surrounded by a reversed crescent moon. She fell to her knees, dropping her bow and letting the arrow fire off into the ceiling. “It’s you,” she bawled. “It’s really you.”
Alexander felt a little twinge in the back of his head. Her voice, her face, her mannerisms, and that bow-- he knew them. He didn’t know how, but he knew them. He suddenly was overcome with a headache. It was small, but deep and persistent. It was the same feeling as forgetting an important appointment or date. “You know me,” he said blankly.

She looked up at him, with sincere tears and a desperate expression. “Don’t you remember me?” He turned away, shaking his head slightly. He felt so ashamed. She stood up, and walked over to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Alex, it’s me!” She pulled him in for a hug. “It’s Tarsi!” She sobbed. He was surprised, and bothered, and afraid. But he felt that she was familiar. He raised his hands up, and returned the hug. Softly though.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke. “I just woke up a few days ago.” He looked into her face. Those green eyes peered back into him. “I don’t remember anything.”
She smiled softly, and squeezed a little tighter. “I thought he’d killed you,” she whispered to him. “I’m just so glad you’re alive.”
Alex had so many questions he wanted to ask. Questions about him, about her… about his memories, and lack thereof. But right now, she was going through an ordeal. This was all she wanted right now—an embrace. Alex would not deny her this—something inside of his quiet heart had started stirring, and it would not let him. And it felt comfortable. It felt familiar to him. So there next to him his Keyblade flashed a little bit, responding to a conflicted heart that reacted to a familiar face.
She would eventually fall back to sleep, still smiling softly with tears streaming down her face. Alex carried her back to his room, placing her in his bed and pulling the covers over her. He took a blanket he had purchased a few days earlier and headed to the couch. He would sleep here tonight. His guest seemed to need more rest than him, and he'd almost died today.

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
Alexander woke up from his sleep the night before. He rolled over, trying to bury his face into the couch cushions behind him. He was feeling well rested, but he just wanted to lay down and not move for a while. Well rested did not mean that he wasn't sore. His muscles ached from yesterday-- he had recieved a through ass kicking at the hands of those Heartless. On top of that, he had a horrifing Nightmare last night. What really bugged him is that he couldn't remember it. He began to detect a smell in the air. A familiar smell. A very lovely smell. He sniffed, concluding that he did infact smell waffles again.
He poked his head up, being surprised by two plates instead of one. He got up, headed to the table but paused. He glanced down the hall, and lookng back at the waffles turned to go get his guest. Tarsi... the name was bittersweet to him, but he would ask her more over waffles. He walked over to her sleeping form, and tapped her gently on the shoulder. "Hey," his voice stood just above a whisper. "Are you well enough to eat?"
Slowly her eyes opened. She looked up dreamily into Alexander's face. Tears had been falling in her sleep-- he was having a nightmare too. She raised her hand gently, and placed it on his face. "I was scared that it was a dream," she said. "But you're here. You're really here."
"Yeah," he said. I'm here." They sat quietly for a while beofre Alex helped her out of bed. he walked her to the kitchen, pulled out a chair for her and motioned for her to sit. She complied, still exhausted. She looke down, seeing the waffles and smiling.
"You always did love waffles."
Alex laughed awkwardly. "I did, huh?" She looked down and blushed, realizing that he didn't remember. He saw her expression, and figured now was as good a time as any to ask. "Tarsi, did you know me from before?" She nodded. "What was I like?"
"Well, what do you mean?"
"Was I... good?"
She gave him a very happy smile. "You were the most amazing person I'd ever met." She looked down at her waffles. She had cut a peice off with her fork, but hadn't picked it up yet. "You were too honorable for your own good sometimes. That's why your hands look like that. The one on your face, that tiny scar? That one almost ended really badly. It you had been a few inches forward then your eye would be gone." She finally picked up the peice and dipped it lightly in the syrup around her plate.
"Really?"
"Yeah," she chuckled softly.
"And what about this?" Alexander motioned to his chest, indicating the symbol beneath his shirt.
She stared at him silently. "... You don't remember?" Alex shook his head. "It really is better that way, I suppose."
"Can't you tell me?"
She sighed. "I really shouldn't."
"Why?"
"I'm worried, is all."
"About?"
"What might happen."
"To me?"
"To the people in Traverse Town." Alexander became silent. She looked up at him, and saw the disturbed expression on his face. "If I told you everything I knew, you would indirectly destory this town by proximity alone."
"Am I... that strong? Am I that bad?"
"No," she replied solemnly. "its just within your nature." She stood up and turned her back to him, revealing the symbol upon it. It was the same as the one on Alexander's chest. "Just know now," she began, "That if I told you the truth, you would accidentally hurt a lot of people. You weren't ready before you lost your memories, I'm sure. You wouldn't be ready now." Alexander was deflated. Right in front of him was the key to his past. She knew everything essentially. But she wouldn't-- couldn't tell him, because it might destroy his new home. "Alright," her voice changed swiftly. She was smiling again, her eyes bright and perky now. "Let's get going!"
A;exander looked up from the table at her, his sadden gaze becoming confused."Going? Going where?"
"Hollow Bastion!" she declared. "I left some things there. I didn't pack properly because I didn't think I was going to stay here."
"Stay?"
"Well, of course! How else am I going to keep an eye on you?" She grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him along by the shoulder.
"But--" he began to speak, but was cut off.
"No time! The faster we go, the faster we come back."
As she drug him out of the front door she kicked it shut. Alexander stared blankly at his house while he was being dragged away. "--waffles."

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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"Look, Alex!" the boy stood, arms wide on the Edge. Often, he had wondered why this place was called 'the Edge.' Now, standing on its flat plain and staring up at the cloudy sky, he knew why. "We are closer to it, than anybody else in all of the Worlds. Closer than light, than dark, than even nothing. Conflict is the closest thing to Kingdom Hearts."
"Fuck. You." Alex tugged his arms slightly. These Dissentientibus that Jericho had called were powerful. Alex's will was strong, and he could not sway them in the slightest. The Traitor seemed aware of his attempts to control them. He turned, smiling coldly with sullen eyes at Alexander. His face was tired, and terrifying.
"Come now," he teased. These dissentibus are incurable. The conflict in their hearts has completely consumed their souls. They can never go back to humanity. They are entrenched in my will now, because I found them first."
"You're a monster."
"Me? A monster?" he laughed. "Let me tell you about monsters. I grew up without a family! I was alone for eighteen years, and people hated me for something that was not my fault! Whenever people were involved with me, they argued and fought with each other! They hurt me! They hated me! They blamed me!" His fist clenched around his Keyblade hilt, and it seemed to growl violently in kind. Its solid black form had an aura of darkness that seemed to flow off it with the slightest movement, and the air around it was several degrees above normal. The hand that the Traitor used to hold his keyblade had been charred black, and the skin was burnt and cracked. underneath his skin the muscle glowed read like fire. Were he to reach out and touch Alexander with this hand, it would no doubt scorch him, and his clothing. The traitor was silent for a few seconds more, before he resumed speaking. "You promised that you would help me. People fought over you to. But, that's all we had in common. They hated me. They loved you too much. So much that, in your presence, they stopped fighting over us. Rather, they started to agree over how much they loathed me, and how much they loved you."
"That wasn't my fa--"
DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT!" The Edge shook with the Traitor's fury. His Keyblade, Dragon's Birth, seemed to poison the whole world with conflict. He stood, angry and huffing at Alexander. He felt the grips of these creatures lessen slightly on his arms-- but they hadn't noticed. He decided not to move. He would take his chance later. The traitor regained his composure. "This world is already mine," he said. "You felt that just now, how it responded to my will? I truly do have the Edge here, pardon the pun. It was intended, rest assured. But that does not change matters. Kingdom Hearts will be mine." He stared up at the clouds, perhaps through them. "To that end, I plan to kill you Alexander. We can not exist at the same time. IT will render me incapable of controlling Kingdom Hearts as long as we remained linked."

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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It seems I've lost my friend
To the darkness that resides inside his heart.

It seems that this conflict within us
Is bound to tear our souls apart.

Its another dark day along my path,
With a satchel on my back.
A lonely road lies before me,
And this is all I really have.

I'm walking forward to go back to the start,
A setting sun watches me depart.
The crescent moon is keeping us apart,
My friend we're cursed with conflicting hearts.

Its a day of darkness,
Cowardice born of powerlessness.

Its a day of mourning,
The friend I had is so far beyond redemption.

I never thought we'd have to fight,
I never thought I'd have to take your life.
I never knew the pain you drew upon,
I didn't know just how far you were gone.

Now, its valor versus chaos,
Its darkness versus light.
Its an angel versus a dragon,
Its me versus you.

My friend, can't we go back to the start?
Remember when nothing could tear us apart?
We used be friends forever, you and I,
But now we suffer together, separated by Conflicted Hearts.

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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http://bionicwoodstock.deviantart.com/#/d5569uc
This is a link to Paragon, also known as AEC-006. He is a copy of Alexander. It is unknown whom, but somebody attempted to reproduce the results Organization XIII's Replica Program. This is the sixth attempt at copying Alexander. He is an imperfect copy, theoretically able to use a Keyblade but if he is able, rarely does so. He is unnerved by Keyblades, so that may be the reason.

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The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Finally, I have figured out how to link pictures! MUHUHAHAHAHAHA THE WORLD IS NO LONGER SAFE FROM ME.

So, this is Alexander's Replica, Paragon (AEC-006) for those of you who didn't want to click the link. He enters in the third part of a (sort of) planned story arc. His character is quite... interesting. As an imperfect copy of Alex, he theoretically has the ability to use a Keyblade. He prefers physical attacks that are amplified by his primary elements of Nothingness, Darkness, and Metal. He is much stronger than Alexander, but his defense is also much, much lower. He has little aptitude for magic in general, and is weak against its use. He has a fair stamina, however, and a slightly above average accuracy.

His senses are heightened as a side effect of his unusual birth. He was the sixth in an attempt to copy the results Organization's Replica Program. Alexander's second performance against Jericho was used as a primary base for his creation, which is why he and Alexander vary so widely in stats. The Drive Form Alexander used was taken by mistake, and as he was in an unbalanced emotional state and tainted by Darkness, the Replica was imperfect, like the five before him and seven after. However, because Six was sampled from Alex during the most trying and emotionally challenging time thus far, and from an Alexander who had to face Tarsi's death, along with the death of their unborn child. This enabled him to use those baser emotions to give himself some form of consciousness beyond a shell at first, and eventually intelligence before he was meant to. He escaped from an unknown area, falling into a Corridor of Darkness he summoned on accident via an excess power discharge.

He encounter's most of the other Alexander Replicas, each believing themselves to be the true Alex. They all use some variation on one of his Keyblades. He encounters a being who goes by the name 'Blueman.' He calls himself the 'perfect replica' of Alexander, obviously aware of a truth the others are not. However, he hides his face behind a blue mask and his body underneath a black long-coat.

Paragon chose his own name, choosing to use Darkness to champion Light an enforce a balance in a manner similar to Alexander. Despite this, he hates being compared to Alex. Even though he is a Replica, he often states "I'm an imperfect copy, so we aren't the same."

He craves to be real more than anything else, and feels ultimately lonely. He does have some emotions, though usually they are slight and deadened to events. Circumstance may arise that draw his full potential out and his emotions as well. He wants to find Kingdom Hearts and find out if "a being who is less than nothing has some semblance of value."

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Do you remember who I am Alexander? Well, let me remind you. I am the reason you fear the darkness. I am the reason you have no soul! I am why you wake up some nights, still screaming the names of the ones you've lost! Do you know me now Alex? What is my name? TELL ME THE NAME OF THE FRIEND YOU DAMNED!


Last edited by Alexander Edamows on July 7th 2012, 8:50 am; edited 1 time in total

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The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Jericho's Keyblade: Dragon's Birth.

It's long and twisted with a charred, blackened blade and teeth resembling hearts, not unlike Alexander's. The hilt appears to have dragon wings etched on the sides. At the center is a jewel that bears a resemblance to an eye of a poisonous serpent. Constantly wafting off of it is a thick, choking smoke as the Keyblade seems to smolder. The hand Jericho holds of with has become burnt and warped, with an extreme heat that penetrates deep into his arm. The veins that leave the cracked and burnt hand have an eerie, orange glow as a result of the influence of the Keyblade. It has granted Jericho the power to absorb power from any source of Darkness be it shadows, people, heartless, or the Realm of Darkness itself. Its power increases with Jericho's fury.

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
"Alexander and Tarsi have died..."

The voice was like a serpent, whispering through the Minus, chilling the spines of even the strongest Gods who lived there. They all knew of the being that was bound; the being that the great Goddess Seri had cursed as a child. The Human, The Dissentientibus that was forced to dwell among them, frozen in time. Jericho.

He felt his body start to twitch. Now, his power was growing beyond even the Minus, returning to him as the chains that bound him had been cut. The very fabric of that world quaked, and the Gods trembled. Except for few. Except for one. Cain.

He approached Jericho, as he started to break free. Atrophy had not set upon him in this place: such things were foreign concepts in The Minus. Slowly, movement returned to his limbs, as he smiled at the God before him.

"You've failed, preserver. Their worlds are mine now. And so is this one. I'll enjoy peeling the skin from your eyes and feasting on your heart."

Cain shook his head. "Jericho, you think I didn't plan for this?"

"I think it doesn't matter."

"You'd be wrong, then. Right now, that pathetic excuse for a God called Hades has restored their bodies for me. They may not have had souls, but their consciousness..." He opened up his palm, revealing two little lights that floated in his hands. "All that they are is right here, with me."

"It doesn't matter, meat. Even if you restore the binds and cuffs, the chains are weakened beyond all repair."

"You underestimate my abilities, Traitor." He gently lifted his hand up, letting the two little lights free before willing them back into their bodies. "They will reforge your chains with their rekindled Hearts. I will will bind your hands and feet for as long as I am able."

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The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
Faith is a very strange mode of thinking. It isn't cold like logic, and it isn't as restrained as rationality. Both of those are bound in chains by reason. No, to believe, to have faith, is separate from everything. I mean, let me put it like this: say somebody makes a promise to you. You can't guarantee that they'll keep that promise. You can't. You can guess at the likelihood. You can see how they might be able to keep it. But, you'll never know for sure. That's where faith comes in. You believe. You don't just hope: faith is a step beyond hope, and a step below knowledge. Its the space in between knowing and hoping. Its belief, and it drives me forward everyday. You can't possibly know me. You can guess at how I am through false interactions and sarcastic remarks, and yes, sometimes even perverted phrases. But how much of that is a facade? How much of it is not me, but instead a shadow I cast from behind a curtain to appear different than I really am? Perhaps, I hide my true wretchedness with a better kind. You don't know me. maybe, you hope for me though. You hope I'll get better. You hope I'll stop acting this way. You hope that, through it all, I'll vanish or surrender to my true nature.

I'm sorry. It doesn't work like that.

That's where I ask for nothing more than your faith. I ask for it, because I can't demand it. I ask for it, but I don't deserve it. I merely ask that you believe in me, and know that I will do everything I can to do what's right. Change is hard. Especially when all of those venomous words have been etched into you deeply. Like a hole in a wall, I cover those scars with extravagant tapestries and flamboyant paintings. I muse on odd topics, and I pray for a miracle. I just ask that'll you have faith in me. You may never call me friend, but I'll never call you anything less. Because no matter what they've done to me, I can't stop giving them my light, even if they'll hate me for it. And I have faith that one day, the very people that hate me will see me for how I truly am: hurting and broken, and in need of a friend.


-Alexander on Faith, just after Tarsi's death.

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
Name: Jericho Uteri

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Home World: None. Currently trapped in an alternate dimension only known as "The Minus."

Race/Species: Dis-Sentient

Appearance: Dark skin with short black hair. His neon eyes seem to stare into you, studying you as they reveal the truth about your life. He doesn't wear a shirt typically, his muscular frame not overmuch, but well toned and without body fat. he has no excess wight, coming in at a mere 134 pounds while he stands at 5'11" in his height. His pants are blackened, ripped and tattered from countless battles of bullets and bombs that he survived with ease. His hands are charred and black, the skin cooked and cracked up to reveal the molten blood just beneath the surface. He wear no shoes, but wherever he steps seems to burn and die. He wears a constant, crooked smile, with teeth the are straight, but yellowed greatly. His nose is about average in size, and his ears quite small for his head.

Alignment: Pure Evil.

Elemental Mastery: Darkness, Fire, Earth

Personality: Jericho is cold, cruel, and manipulative when it serves him. He is extremely arrogant: nobody rivals his power, and he knows it. He usually take pleasure at torturing his victims, peeling their skin off and feeding it to them or those they hold dear. Sometimes he partakes of their flesh himself, savoring the flavor of a fresh kill and revealing in the irony aftertaste. Perhaps his favorite method of torture involves creating pikes of out the earth and sticking people onto them through their joints. He then super-heats the stone so that it cooks them onto it and cauterizes their flesh, holding them in place while he starts to feed on them.

Weapons: Apocalypse Keyblade

Fighting Style: Jericho wades into the fray, not using his Keyblade until he feels he has a worthy foe. He deflects most weaponry with his bare hands, using his versatile knowledge of the Martial Arts to overwhelm foes with his unmatched speed and power. When it suits him he draws in opponents-- sometimes whole crowds of them-- and creates a pulse of Darkness that eviscerates them. He raises the earth and creates fire around him, reshaping the very battlefield, and sometimes even whole worlds to suit his desires. Once he has infected enough people on a world with the Dis-Sentient curse the world too succumbs, and he uses it as a weapon in and of itself, breaking pieces off where people stand and causing massive tremors to destabilize foes. He can exert control over any type of heartless, from Purebloods to artificial to Humanoids and heartless that match the Phantom in power, though he usually only calls them so that he can devour them and take their Dark nature to fuel himself, ascending even further in power. He is not above throwing entire mountains to crush his foes when he grows board, or even destroying an entire world with them on it. His arrogant nature leads him to take his time with most fights, and as he has given up hope on finding an equal he seeks he tends to go out of his way to make opponents suffer. In his fight with Alexander before he was sealed in the minus, he grew board and broke his own arm, leaping onto a downed Alexander and stabbed him repeatedly with the newly expose bone, before finally getting board and snapping it back into place. When he does finally summon his Keyblade, the Apocalypse truly begins. One swing is enough to cause winds of up to 400mph, strong enough to send even the heaviest of boulders through the air. He again draws opponents in close, deciding to let as many attack him from as many directions as he cane. He takes advantage of his immense speed, strength, and agility and deflects every blow, knocking back and usually killing opponents from the impact alone. He can use his Keyblade to effectively block all magics, and only the people he chooses would get to keep the ability to cast their spells. He has the ability to absorb MP, draining the people he touches of it and adding it to his own. When using his Keyblade however, he can effectively redirect the spell to any target he chooses. Because he hungers for darkness, he almost always absorbs spells of that nature and gains power in direct proportions to the amount MP the spell cost.

Affinities: Jericho excels in all physical and magical aspects. He can not be physically overcome. If in an area with a high concentration of darkness in the environment (i.e. WtNW, EftW, RoD) his power grows without limits. If hatred, rage, grudges and vengeance exist in any capacity around him, he uses the negative energy of these emotions to weaken his foes by creating his own, weaker version of the Minus with an ability referred to as "Nightmare from the Minus." His strength allows him to life up to a ton without trouble, while his speed lets him move up to 243 miles per hour if he ever got out in the open. His agility and dexterity give him unthinkable flexibility and evasion, seeming to almost vanish from right under a foe's weapon. His endurance is extreme, as is his stamina. He can take any beating if the foes is strong enough to overpower him, but never seems to grow tired. He uses spells that do everything from locking out abilities to banishing summon-able weapons, sometimes even abilities that suck the Darkness straight from a person's lifeless corpse. Once he infects the world, he gains control over it and can do everything from change its nature to forcing it to detonate, taking out every life on it. He posses a passive enchantment that cannot be negated called "Eyes of the Soulless Monster" that allows him to tell opponents histories, lives, loved ones, and future or past connections so long as they've been infected by the Dis-Sentient Curse, in addition to allowing him to see the status of their hearts and detecting their alignments and species. Unlike Alexander, his eyes even work on nobodies.

Weaknesses: Jericho can not use Drive Forms or Summons. Jericho has no active enchantments. If Jericho is exposed to sincere love, he weakens and grows ill. If physical contact is made with Jericho and the feelings are sincerely of love, he will detonate instantly, killing everyone within fifty feet if not behind cover, and can cause severe wounds and lacerations up to two-hundred feet. Outside that range up to four hundred feet, the pulse can knock people unconscious if not in cover properly.

History: What Jericho was before he became the Conflicted God is irrelevant. We was a meek and timid child growing up, orphaned as an infant and abused his whole life at an orphanage. He grew to hate everybody around him as they hated him. This was a result of the Dis-Sentient curse placed upon him by the FelGod Sera to be her final curse upon the mortal realm. She intended that her cursed creature would one day rise up and strengthen in power enough to kill the Dread God Cain who had led an uprising to imprison her, and destroy the mortal realm. However much Jericho was hated, worlds are self correcting systems. It created a counter point in Alexander, meant to be his opposite and to balance the world out. Jericho would go on to destroy Seven worlds and almost Ten-Million lives in the course of months before he was stopped by Alexander and sealed within the minus, plotting his way out through cleverly orchestrated acts of control, placing the Key to his Lock into the hands of the most (un)reliable, knowing he would be released one day. Then, he and Alexander would have their ending to things.

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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SU-17b
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Post Count : 122
"I don't remember why it had to come to this."

"I'd give you the world."

"You hold power in the palm of your hands."

"Its impossible to dream of peace."

"That whore has lied to you."

"Tarsi?"

"You can't escape this, Alexander."

"I'm going to stand and fight! I will not back down!"

"My brother taught me that... before all this."

"We have to stop her here."

"The realm is going to fall to Sera."

"Do you know what he's after, Alexander?"

"The power you posses can cut even Fate's string."

"Tarsi!"

"She is a vessel for your power."

"I'm here to kill you!"

"You can't stop what's coming, Alex."

"Stop!"

"His name... is Jericho Vee Uteri."




"Hello, Alexander."




"You're a traitor Jericho!"

"She was meant to kill you, Alex!"

"I'm not real..."

"Shut up!"

"I have to stop you, right here, right now!"

"Oh, silly little angel. Your wings can't even flutter."

"We are the soulless monsters, Alexander."

"DIS-SENTIENT!"

"Everything ends."

"We're going to let it all burn!"

"I can end the curse."

"How simple did you think it would be?"

"Let me take your darkness!"

"This is it Alexander! Let's have our ending to things! Everything is going to burn! Us three; we're going set this realm on fire!"


"I took your place! You were supposed to be the monster, Alexander! Fate decreed it!"

"Dis-Sentient monster!"

"Monster? No, I have become the devil!"

"Come now Alexander, let me test your power for myself! Show me everything! Give me everything! Let everything go! Let it all go! Let out the monster!"

"This is our ending, Alexander!"

"I said... never... again... I won't lose anybody else."

"Its not your choice who I get to kill!"

"Alexa---" *crack*

"No..."


"Valor means sacrifice."


"Yes. That's the power I want from you Alex."

"She was my everything!"

"I want that. Give it to me."

"You took her from me!"

"The power to change my fate!"

"Give her back!"

"The Limitless Angel has awakened!"

"Give her back to me!"




"Thank you... my friend."



KingdomHearts:
Conflicted Hearts

"It all comes down to this."

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