• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy 𝕃𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕔𝕪 𝕌𝕟𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 - ɪᴄ

Characters
Here
Lore
Here







♛Leox♛






Leox let out a sigh of relief as he saw Xathos and Axiron quite uninjured... besides Xathos losing his arm but a sense of regret and uselessness washed over Leox as he figured he could have saved Xathos's arm if he made that armor around Xathos earlier. Leox walks over to Xathos and Axiron and quickly tries to stop the bleeding by ripping his cloth and using it as a bandage for Xathos's arm. Leox looks over to Axiron and then over to the beast which had a gaping hole where it's chest. Leox suddenly tired, fell to his knee, not having the energy to get up again.

This reminded Leox of the time he was eating bread by the waterfall, when he should be searching for the heartless. A girl beside him humming a tune he was unfamiliar with, which he was humming to right now without him noticing, with his eyes closed. Leox opening his eyes and realizing he was humming, stopped and looked at Axiron and Xathos, "Where the hell do you think that hare.. bunny.... or rabbit(?) is because I for sure need to beat the shit out of him or her"







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛ Dauxine ♛






It was only when the ground beneath her trembled that Dauxine thought to rise. Her state just then had come from an earlier moment of weakness when she, bearing witness to the cannibalization of the beast she'd earlier pitied, fell to her knees at how the battle had concluded. When the flowers cannibalized their own, who was there to blame Dauxine for looking away?

To speak frankly too, there was utility in sitting in that moment, as well. From casting such healing towards Zexal, there grew a light-headedness in her temples, subjecting her stand to a wobble that she could only succumb too. So, when the ground quaked, she scrambled again to a stand when the hedges shrank away to reveal a clear exit, at which she breathed a sigh of relief to say, "Oh, thank—the rabbit?"

Like it were something she might've imagined, a manicured hand—dirtied only just then from retrieving her boot off the earth below—came up to rub at her eyes in disbelief. Her disbelief was apparent in her tone: "Who's waiting..?" she asked to no one in particular.

With her other hand at her staff, she supported her weight. Using it as a walking stick, she followed slowly behind Xirene—Zexal having long ran off to the object of his obsession from the way he cried out to locate her.

Dauxine followed Xirene's wave towards The Fifth with her own but found him to be a little worse for wear. A look around at the rest of the organization that quickly came into view proved this true across the board. Dialed to just above a refreshing gust of magic, it dawned on her to cast a lesser version of Cleansing Light to help clean up any scrapes or bruises. Doing so, though, bore down on her another blanket of fatigue, though comical this time.

"Oh, my Heart... I could go for... hurrying along, I think. Maybe she has a bed or a snack." As she spoke, she took to nearly leaning on her friend, The Seventh, just barely wavering near him in the event she did miss a step. In her rambling, she added, "I think my blood sugar's low."





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







XATHOS






Blood, sweat, and tears — curdling, white-hot pain that seared every mile of his nerves. The thick of shame's bitter tar, and the acrid sting of bile that threatened to spill past ground teeth.

This was the culmination of tireless nights of training? The bale fangs of a Heartless, digging into sinew and bone, his blade all but barely promising that his arm was not swallowed whole. In the heady aftermath of the battle, he remembers piercing all three of his Gymnopédies into its snout, past the mangled remains of what the lion had crushed in its jaws. Desperate, vitriolic hatred flashed in his flaring eyes as he kept the beast pinned on him.

"I am not finished with you!" Xathos bellowed.

His memory blurs, and his vision besides. Next thing he had known, the spite that anchored his legs had left and he found himself lying in the wasted scape of the maze's heart. Anguish troubled his rended right, skin babbling fresh red pockmarked by what pieces of his radius and ulna pierced past bit muscle, almost unbearable.

Yet even as Axiron had rushed to mend what he had sustained, the sovereign was despondent. There was no noise to hear from Xathos apart from weak rattles that shook his throat. They had won, but he had lost. Him; it was supposed to be him.

His head lolls, barely able to make out Leox as he quipped his way. Joyless laughter finally leaked from his diaphragm. "We must move." Gathering what strength he had left, he weakly tugged his arm away from Axiron's attentions to shakily stand up. "This is no place to die."

And as the organization reconvened, the sovereign's head remained low for the very first time. How heavy, the crown is.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛Axiron♛






Xathos fell to the ground as the titan heartless was vanquished. The sovereign’s royal strength and endurance had understandably run out. Their loud leader was silent on the ground as his arm was being attended to. Leox instinctively joined Axiron in tending to their wounded royal. Tearing cloth apart to create more suitable sized bandages. Focusing on stopping the bleeding. Guilt written all over the earth user’s face as the blood slowly stopped pooling out. Axiron was focused on treating the wounds to prevent infection along with creating a brace for the sovereign. The royal was beyond exhausted and hurt– not a sound left those royal lips as the two continued their first aid. Between their portable first aid kit, the cloth from Leox, and the vines left over from titan’s body, the two were able to macgyver a crude cast. It was enough to keep the arm still and intact, and that’s all the two could ask for. Xathos needed time to regain his strength before the three could move on. Leox succumbed to his own exhaustion and guilt. Beside himself with a mixture of relief that the royal was stable, but guilt the damage was so severe. Crashing to his knees. At least the bones were intact and there was enough muscle around the puncture wounds for stitches to be effective. Axiron extended a hand out to Leox, firmly grabbing his shoulder and offering a smile. ”You know, those earth pillars and platforms saved Xathos. It stopped the lion from charging in a straight path. It’s how I was able to land both attacks. Thank you Leox, for saving all three of us.” Leox had his eyes shut and was humming, self soothing. Axiron hoped that their words reached the earth user. He was vital in turning the lion’s territory against itself. Turning the terrain to their advantage. They gave both the royal and the earth user time to rest and reflect. As of right now the three of them were safe. Dreamland might be playing more tricks, but the hedges seemed to be shrinking. The maze seemed to be giving way to a new path forward. This nightmare finally gave way to something better beyond the horizon. What was the purpose for this strife? Would dreamland constantly shift from lucid dream to vivid nightmare? It seemed they could only brace themselves and move forward. Axiron moved to Xathos’ side, tending to the hero of this whole battle. Without the royal having the lion’s undivided attention this battle would have been a different story– they would have all turned into mulch for the maze. As they made some final adjustments to the cast the sovereign pulled the arm away. They let out an audible sigh seeing him regain consciousness. ”A king among men. You held the beast’s attention the entire time. It’s the only reason I could land those blows.” Words of encouragement nor thanks, not even songs of praise, could break Xathos out of that depressive state. To see the king go from lively and taking charge to a shell of a man was heartbreaking in its own right. By reflex they wanted to help him stand up, but he seemed to need to be able to stand on his own two feet. Leox was still collapsed on the ground, humming a tune in a far off dream. Hearing Xathos say this was no place to die, commanding them all to move, was most welcome. They couldn’t help their king stand tall, he needed to do that on his own. At the very least, they could use levitate on the two others in order to make it easier to stand. Turn those concrete feet into feathers, something the gentle breeze could propel forward. ”A lion is no match for a king." Their words might not reach the royal, but surely praise had to give him a bit of energy. Leox was next to speak up, noticing Xathos and Axiron were standing and preparing to move. They couldn’t hide the subtle smile that the thought of pummeling that rabbit into the dirt– turn the rabbit into mulch for this monstrous maze. ”The maze has opened up ahead. We’ll find that rabbit and get us some lucky rabbit's feet.” Axiron helped Leox to his feet. The two caught up to Xathos easily. It was best to let the royal lead once more, move at his pace. Axiron had Xathos and Leox in front of them as the three marched forward. The goal was to rejoin the other organization members and continue on. Find out why the Elder sent all nine of them to this lucid dream. Why the rabbit was running late. Who they were supposed to meet. Most importantly, how the hell the nine were to escape this horrid dreamland.

The walk was silent, tense, and rather depressing. Xathos was silent the whole way. No royal commands. No declaration to march forward nor which way to go. In the silence Axiron learned how comforting that overinflated ego was. Leox was also quiet, lost in thought. He wasn’t distracted by the wonders of Dreamland. His gaze didn’t drift from their wounded royal nor the path forward. They didn’t have to guide the earth user forward like before. There was no enjoyment from the riches of victory, the spoils of war. The wind was silent. Leaves no longer rustled. The maze hedges continued to give way to a path forward. The walls started to shrink as the paths widened. No more vibrant flowers with unique faces and matching personalities. No more faces filled with razor sharp petals. The three had survived the nightmare which gave way to something in between a dream and reality. There was still a sense of dread in the air. Axiron remained vigilant, hand on their blade’s handle as a precaution. This maze got the better of them once, it wouldn’t happen again. They maintained levitate during the entire march forward. While the path opened for the three ahead it was impossible to tell how long it would take. It seemed like the three were just walking in place– nothing came over the horizon. They had to mark a hedge to ensure the three were truly moving forward. The broken branches drifted into the background with each step. How could something or someone make a maze so large? Why did someone spend the energy to create such a labyrinth? The three were even in the center of the maze. How long would it take for the others to escape? Axiron tried to look over the shrinking maze walls to spot everyone and anyone else. It dawned on them: if the three had encountered a heartless then the other six did as well. If this was one of the Elder’s damned tests there would be hell to pay. The maze submitted to the three’s desires, and soon figures were on the horizon. Axiron counted each figure for a total of six. Everyone else had made it out alive and in enough of one piece to be standing– seeing everyone alive was more beautiful than any sunset. The never ending silent march came to a close as all nine nobodies were reunited.

It seemed there was a pattern between the three groups of three. One person received substantial injuries, one was hurt or distraught, and one was relatively fine. As the nine were rejoined everyone started to intermingle. Axiron stood more towards the back, observing the other eight. Dauxine was physically fine as injuries go, but the sage seemed rather exhausted and distraught. Leaning heavily on her staff as support. Being a healer among fighters had to be a mixture of horrific and exhausting. To be the most useful when someone was hurt. Zaxel had some noticeable damage to one of his arms, but given the lack of outer wounds the scholar must have been healed. Perhaps the injury was more severe like Xathos’, and healing reconstructed the arm but left the pain. On que he immediately sought Xanthe out. The scholar and replica found comfort in one another. It was hard to place if it was like father and daughter or something else more familial leaning. Xanthe was standing tall and proud while Zaxel showed his concern, but she had a saddened expression at the post injured arm. She was standing fine, if anything a bit sore or tired. At least the scholar and replica were in good spirits. Axrael was in similar spirits to Xathos– depressed. The keyblade wielder looked exhausted and worse for wear. As if the man had received countless beatings or a bomb had gone off. The lack of physical injuries was reassuring; however, there could be troublesome internal injuries. There could be leftover mental distress from the Elder’s earlier domination. Forcing him to slay a defenseless, perhaps innocent, heartless. Valyrixis was near the others, taking a head count and a breather. The leader must have done her sworn duty and fought to protect those near her. It was hard to gauge how successful her fight was. It was hard to gauge how successful any of the others’ were against the heartless. Something caught Axiron’s eye. Xirene was waving at them while walking over. The trickster had a relieved snicker on his face. They met the trickster half way, returning the snicker with a smile. ”Likewise. It’s relieving to see all nine of us in one piece.” Axiron paused, tilting their head to the side in thought. Seeing the trickster reminded them how the heartless lion tricked them into thinking a charge was a long range attack. ”Next time I hope the tricks stay with you. I’d rather not get tricked into thinking a charge is a long range assault. I was flown off the lion’s back.” Axiron used their hands to mimic being bucked off of the lion’s back. Their attention snapped to the damn white rabbit. The same rabbit that led all nine of the nobodies down a rabbithole and into a wild goose chase. Who the hell was waiting for all nine? Was she waiting for their deaths? Axiron heard Xanthe’s comment and couldn’t agree more. Killing the damn rabbit might be the nobodies’ ticket out of dreamland. Everything seemed to revolve around the rabbit being late for an important date. They couldn’t help but to smirk at Xirene’s retort. Dauxine was the only one of the nine that seemed interested in meeting this person– but that was probably the low blood sugar talking.










/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
Legacy Unbound
Scene 009
The rabbit, impatient as ever, didn't wait long before hopping away, leaving behind anyone who wasn’t quick enough to keep up. The group hastened their pace, trying not to lose sight of the white blur darting ahead.

As they approached a stern-looking card guard on duty, the rabbit flashed his stopwatch. Without a word, the guard nodded, granting them passage — each step bringing them closer to answers — or so they hoped.

As the group walked around the white marble castle, some members may have been drawn to the decor. Towers with roofs resembling chess pieces loomed above them, while a small garden they passed through at the entrance boasted fountains shaped like pawns and knights. Everything looked pristine, save for the leisurely vines and moss clinging to the outer towers. The overall impression was one of elegance and a welcoming, almost congenial charm.

The castle's interior was just as captivating. Polished floors reflected their steps, and the walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting chessboards. Despite the age shown by the vines outside, the inside felt timeless, a place where history and hospitality intertwined. The friendly atmosphere was perceptible, making some in the group feel unexpectedly at ease as they ventured further; a robust contrast to the maze's ambiance.

Eventually, the hare led the group to a grand dining hall, where the opulence of the setting was shining as the table laid in the middle of the room — its expanse of polished wood, gleaming under the soft glow of chandeliers. Delicate china and ornate silverware were scruffily arranged, as if the utensils had been utilized for a prolonged time. At the head of the table sat three distinct figures, their silhouettes casting long shadows in the candelabrum light.

1721795760218.png

To the left was a woman in a flowing ivory gown, her smile radiating warmth and serenity. "I am the White Queen." She introduced herself, her voice melodic and welcoming. "And this is my castle. You are most welcome here."

In the middle, a man clad in a flashy ensemble fumbled with a teacup, his every movement exuding quirk. "I'm the Mad Hatter." He announced, nearly spilling his tea as he extended a gloved hand toward the group, his grin wide and infectious.

On the right, a creature lounged comfortably, smoking from a hookah pot. Blue smoke curled around him like a lazy serpent. "I am the Caterpillar." He said, his voice a deep rumble. He took a long drag from the water pipe, exhaling a swirl of fragrant fumes that hung in the air. "Though I have no official title, wisdom needs none."

Upon the Caterpillar's finishing words, the White Queen motioned for the group to take a seat. There were exactly nine chairs arranged around the table, one for each member, making it clear they had been expected. Despite the hare's impatient foot tapping, the hosts showed no sign of irritation over their delay.

"Don't mind him." The White Queen said with a gentle chuckle. "He's always like that."

She then directed their attention to the array of food spread across the table. Plates piled high with cookies labeled "Eat Me" and bottles marked "Drink Me" sparkled invitingly under the chandelier's glow. "I promise they won't make you grow. Probably."

1721795695874.png

Post Objective: Welcome to the White Queen's castle! Our stay here will be short, but important nonetheless. Your character is to choose to either drink the bottle, eat the pastry, or neither. Choices will affect you during your next battle.
Code by Nano
 
Last edited:







♛ZEXAL♛






"Right now... that sounds rather tempting," Zexal replied to his creation, targetting an unamused expression at the creature in question.

Like everyone else, Zexal hurried after the skittish rabbit, its stopwatch swinging wildly as it bounded through the forest.

And this time, he made sure Xanthe was close behind.

The rabbit led them to a magnificent white castle nestled amidst lush green cliffs and a clear blue sky. Its towers and spires were intriguingly fashioned in the image of chess pieces.

As they approached, the towering castle gates swung open with a creak of ancient hinges, revealing a path through a perfectly manicured courtyard and white marble statues. They were escorted into a grandiose dining hall that was an architectural masterpiece, with high, vaulted ceilings adorned with chandeliers that sparkled like captured starlight. Long, arched windows let in sunbeams that danced across the polished tiled floor.

Already seated at the table were three eccentric figures: a woman garbed in an ethereal white dress, a man with an overly dramatic demeanour almost as ridiculous as his hat, and lastly... a caterpillar.

This place grows weirder by the second, Zexal thought to himself, trying to stifle any visible disdain.

The one who claimed herself to be the White Queen invited the organisation members to sit at the table laden with labelled biscuits and drinks.

Though sceptical, Zexal walked over to the table, opening a chair and taking a seat. Glancing over his shoulder, he gestured for Xanthe to occupy the seat beside him. The Scholar's contemptuous gaze then flicked over the array of delicacies. He was wary. He'd come to trust nothing in this world, for nothing was as it seemed.

"With all due respect... I'll pass," he politely declined, albeit insincere, folding his arms.

The Second's eyes shifted over to the White Queen.

"Your Majesty, far be it from me to hold you in any suspicion..." a lie. "But I have reason to believe you've been expecting us. Although, I have no recollection of any previous encounter." for a fraction of a moment, Zexal shot daggers at the rabbit, before returning his gaze unto the queen. "If I may ask... Why have you summoned us here?"

There are always two sides to a chessboard. Black and white. Currently, it seemed they found themselves at the hands of the latter. But what was the White Queen's true motive for bringing them all here?







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛Xanthe♛





The Scholar had agreed with Xanthe’s suggestion, yet alas, the fleet-footed hare would continue hopping on its way before the young woman could entertain any further thoughts of serving it upon a dinner plate. This time, it would bounce along a far more straightforward path—one without the random pitfall threatening to swallow any who’d been too slow to react. Fists clenching at the embarrassing memory, The Replica marched onward with the stiffness of a toy soldier carved from wood, too distracted by her noisy thoughts to admire much less pay any mind to the decor of the ornate castle they’d been invited to.

A total of three figures awaited their arrival, each one appearing stranger than the last. The final member of the trio to introduce himself didn’t even look human, instead assuming the form of a large caterpillar. His title or lack thereof was as literal as could be, though weren’t caterpillars larvae? As she studied his voice and mannerisms, she thought it was a shame that the creature had refused to move on to adulthood. After all, wings seemed rather convenient, though she supposed being a butterfly made smoking rather difficult. Conversely, couldn’t the matter be fixed by simply replacing the tube with the butterfly’s siphon? Well, to each their own. What did she know about the struggles of oversized, talking bugs?

In the midst of her internal tangent, Xanthe had moved to seat herself beside The Scholar. Unlike her creator’s far more wary approach, The Replica had always been one to actively satisfy her curiosity so long as no orders stated otherwise. One quick sniff of the cookie she’d swiped off the plate greeted her olfactory nerves with a sugary goodness and warmth that tempted her to take a sizable bite from the sweet treat. “Eat Me,” it beckoned with a devilish grasp on her now rumbling stomach, though she managed to shake her head and mentally slap away its saccharine seduction milliseconds before it was too late.

Oh, such a dangerous trap indeed!

Xanthe produced a napkin and placed the cookie upon the space of the table in front of her, concerned that it would be considered rude to place something she’d touched back onto a communal plate.

Secretly, she stuffed a separate cookie into her pocket. For research purposes.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛Axrael♛






After chasing the rabbit for what felt like forever Axrael with his irritation growing rather rapidly. On the break of freaking out Axrael noticed the rabbit slowing down but that isn't what caught his attention it was the massive castle that looked like a solid white cloud as tall as the eye could see. Noticing the rabbit flashing something that looked like a shiny watch of some sort with a nod the guard let the group with company of the rabbit into the massive castle. Walking through the halls Axrael was in nothing but complete awe with giant paintings of big statues and old look weapons decking the halls. Axrael inner thoughts was wanting him to take one of the old weapons and take it for a test drive but knowing that the other members of the team would scold him so he decided against it. After walking for a bit they walk into a room with some items laying on the table, a beverage, a pastry and nothing at all. And then all of a sudden a figure walks in on someone who looks like they demand respect and all of a sudden something inside of Axrael tenses up like something could happen but Axrael trusts his team and calms down. After the queen enters the room she offers everyone one of the items on the table has everyone makes their choices Axrael sits there and thinks about what he wants all he is trying to do is figure out if he is hungry or thirst or nothing at all after the battle he just feels like wants to sleep and not wake up for a couple of days but if he doesn't he or drink anything he won't keep up his good figure. So after a little bit of a debate Axrael grabs the pastry and eats it all in one bite.








/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛ Dauxine ♛






At no point between trailing the walking rabbit into the presence of a massive caterpillar creature did Dauxine consider there to be any danger.

It were as though the previous battle with enemies that should not have been animate had taught her nothing. How could it? To now be a guest within a castle so grand, so reminiscent of the organization's own, & especially after narrowly escaping death; there was little else that would've disturbed Dauxine in the moment. To be frank, a Heartless could've appeared right then & there & Dauxine might've considered it a dinner guest.

To say she was content in the sudden peace that lingered in the air would be an understatement. Like a waist pack-clad sightseer on a tour of some museum, the pink-haired woman lingered behind her group to stand & idle before anything—card guards, sculpted entablature, corridor candles—that caught her fancy in the moment. When it was finally then that her tour group reached the dining hall, Dauxine couldn't help but contain her amusement by bringing gloved hands up to her nose in amazement.

"Oh, these are lovely..." may have been heard by anyone at her side, though only minimally as she was surprisingly mindful of keeping her tone down. The atmosphere of the room, to her, was quite redolent of the meeting hall back home—it must've been the white upholstery. Under the long shade casted by the queen particularly, Dauxine bent her neck in the three's presence.

Still, when invited, who was she to deny the courtesy of royalty? Without the slightest hint of hesitation on her behalf, a cookie or three had been plucked from the tray closest to where she stood. took just two cookies from the trays on the right of the table. Doubly, it was in the same motion that she, just then in recovery of an earlier lightheadedness, bit into one of her pastries.

For the sake of lauding good food, it was then that Dauxine held no reservation toward exclaiming, "Oh, these are lovely! Really, you all"—she turned to her peers—"ought to try... one." Though, it was then, too, that the heat of having potentially drawn more than one pair of eyes toward her person made her withdraw in her sudden bout of confidence. In the beat later, she cowered behind Xirene once more.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛VALYRIXIS♛






Valyrixis let out a deep, exaggerated sigh as the hare dashed past the group, commanding more than pleading for them to follow it down the winding trails towards the blindingly bright castle. Not a moment to gather thoughts or strategize their plans on how to find their missing commander. Valyrixis hoped that whoever lay in the castle might have answers. Part of her wished that the person the hare spoke of waiting for them was the Elder. But the hare had said, "she" was waiting, and that couldn't be the Elder. Doubt gnawed at her mind, mingling with the persistent hope that this unexpected detour would lead them closer to their goal. She could only brace herself for whatever awaited them within the castle's gleaming walls, her grip tightening on her weapon as they pressed forward.

In the end, it was indeed not the Elder who awaited them in the castle. Instead, a woman whose smile was as bright as the castle's walls welcomed them. Beside her stood a strangely dressed man and a human-sized caterpillar — a strange bunch, to say the least. The woman's eyes sparkled with an unnerving cheerfulness, the man's eccentric attire clashed wildly with the pristine surroundings, and the caterpillar exhaled leisurely smoke rings, its expression one of serene detachment. Valyrixis couldn't shake the feeling that they had stepped into a place where the rules of reality were blurred, and where every new face promised both danger and revelation.

At the offer of refreshments and snacks, Valyrixis could hardly contain herself. Despite the inner voice warning her against accepting food from strangers, the fatigue from her previous battle in the scorching heat of her own flames, or perhaps the constant smoke from the caterpillar, wore down her resolve. The temptation was too great. She hesitated only a moment before reaching for one of the bottles, uncorking it, and taking a cautious sip. The cool liquid soothed her parched throat, and for a brief instant, she allowed herself to forget the strangeness of their surroundings. "A rest would be nice."






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







XATHOS






There was a ringing in his hear that persisted—stayed stubborn in his head that drowned out every voice. The pomp and lustre that adorned the sheen of his eyes, and the majesty of his motions; despondent, dull. In the middle of the procession, his downcast gaze remained blank and still. The only things that urged him forward was the sight of his comrades' boots and the heavy ache of his lame arm.

It was all a haze as far as he was concerned. The voices, the reassurances, the hare, the new faces. He wallows deeper in loathing; the obsolescence that he can feel gnawing on his gored limb, coursing through his veins like poison. He can make out the curves of his comrades' smiles, the relief in their eyes, and all he feels is painfully hollow. Xathos loathes this, the ache of knuckles long unconsciously clenched in his working hand suddenly shooting into his palms. How miserable it was, to feel envy when he should be content.

Why is he not happy? Why can't he be happy? The emptiness of his expression deepened. Not being able to smile and share the merriment with those who are supposed to be his brothers, his friends; he despises it . . . his weakness.

It was supposed to be him.

With the same lethargy, Xathos despondently reaches for the bottle within the hallowed chambers of the White Queen's castle. Uncapping, he sips slow but without hesitation. The cool liquid felt scalding in his tongue; burnt a trail down his throat as he drunk. He didn't deserve this relief. He hadn't earned it.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛XIRENE♛






"Ah, you have all the fun!" Xirene sighed, throwing their arms up. "A bunch of flowers rushed our beast before any of us deal the killing blow. "

Yes, this! This was what Xirene wanted out of Wonderland. White marble towered over the nine Nobodies, blocking any amount of sun that showered them earlier. A pawn, a knight, a bishop. She took note of each building's position, wondering whether there was any significance in their placement. Given that the world greeted them with a maze, a chess puzzle wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility.

For that matter, would they be meeting a human or an anthropomorphic chess piece? Would she have legs or hop around like a bouncy ball? Would she have a face?

He supposed that was the most important question when it came to gauging something's humanity. Welyxfor had full features whereas the Deathbloom had only its saw-toothed maw. The hare they ran after, though still very much an animal, expressed its irritation without trouble.

"Imagine if this lady turns out to be a tiny chess piece with googly eyes and no mouth," Xirene snickered to Axiron.

Alas, the queen turned out to be an ordinary, human-shaped being in ordinary clothes in an ordinary castle. Yes, it was true that the hall held riches more splendid and shiny than Organization IX's headquarters; however, it lacked the ah, je ne sais quoi present in the rest of Wonderland. The only real indicators that they were in another world was the strangely labeled food and the extremely unordinary caterpillar on the right side of the dining table.

He sauntered over to the table, taking a lax seat next to the Caterpillar. The Trickster seemed to pay no mind to either the food or the queen, but rather the vapors wafting from its mouth.

"Tell me good sir, what's in that pipe of yours?" he asked with a tilt of his head, "Nicotine? Opium? Could it be the same stuff as in the food or drink?"

To their dismay, the Caterpillar turned his nose at Xirene, seeming to pull the mouthpiece closer to himself. "That is not for you to know."

The Trickster rolled their eyes and leaned back as much of the team (mostly Dauxine) partook in the amenities. They gave her a reassuring pat on the back after she'd realized just how many cookies she'd taken from the table.

"Think these are a trick or a treat?" Axiron inquired, leaning over their chair.

"Hm, it's hard to say but if it is then I'm going to trust you to bail me out of it." Uncorking one of the bottles, she downed its contents before brazenly grabbing another.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛Axiron♛






Another goose chase following that damned white rabbit– if this involved another rabbithole or a hedge maze Axiron was going to shoot the damned hare. The marching order this time was rather chaotic and disorganized. Everyone had different levels of energy and injury. They took a position in the back to ensure: the group stayed together; those injured didn’t fall behind and become easy pickings; out of the group they were in the best condition, making it their responsibility to protect the other eight. Twists and turns had become the norm in Wonderland, nothing was straight forward. Each time the bushes or shrubs would get a bit too tall, dread washed over them once more– they didn’t want to repeat the dane-lion incident. If the leaves rustled too loudly. If the wind grew too silent. If the flowers became too large or were blooming. Their eyes snapped in every direction as they were on high alert, anything outside of the normal was deemed a possible threat. Everything was just normal enough to be safe. The twists and turns followed the natural layout of the toadstool forest. Flowers were faceless and silent. Shadows remained still and inanimate, it was easy to point to which foliage caused what shadow. Wonderland was becoming more tame as the group trailed the white rabbit. How was the person the group had an important date with able to command the lucid reality with such authority? Hopefully there’d be answers at the end of this wild race. While the fight left them jaded and on edge, they had to admit it was eerily for the group to be silent. Axrael and Xanthe marched forward with bubbling irritation, almost bursting with agitation. Valyrixis and Xathos weren’t fighting for control, the first member was clearly in command dead set on finding answers. The sovereign was deep in painful thought in a dreamland of his own. Dauxine moved without a care in the world; however, it wasn’t in a joyous way but from being jaded, it was ominous. Everyone else followed the leader in silence. This was telling to how treacherous the previous encounters strained the nine individual nobodies. Axiron raised a brow as the group momentarily slowed down. The unruly forest gave way to an intricate garden being guarded by a chess piece guard, or rather a pawn of a guard. The pawn took notice of the white rabbit and its matching white gold pocketwatch and let all ten through. The garden had various white roses and decorative shrubs and hedges following a chess theme. This could have been another heartless trap, but there was solace in seeing the dutiful pawn guards marching throughout the garden paths. In the distance was a large, white, ornate castle that followed the surrounding chess theme. Was Wonderland created by a mad grandmaster? It wouldn’t surprise them if the nine were in the Elder’s lucid dream with the nine being unhinged chess pieces. Time moved nonlinearly through the garden. At times the castle was right on the horizon, but after a couple twists and turns the nine were at the castle’s doorstep– only for the castle to seemingly jump back a space or two, even shifting three to either side. The castle itself was well maintained and adorned. The only sign of age were the thick vines climbing up the castle walls. Some vines even making it to the roof. Majority of the nobodies were staring at the castle in awe. Amazed at the mixture of intricate chess architecture and design. How the castle was so clean yet visibly old from its spotless durable exterior. Perhaps the castle needed the nine to appreciate its beauty and robust nature before allowing everyone to reach the castle doors. The white rabbit opened the doors without hesitation, hopping in with a stern sense of urgency.

Axiron was amused at how strong the white rabbit seemed opening those gigantic chess doors. While it was evident on the outside, once inside it was clear there was no expense spared on the interior. Large arches with vaulted ceilings that touched the clouds. Polished chess floors that have never seen a game played. Mixtures of tapestries, statues, and paintings adorned the walls following the chess theme. The entire interior seemed to be crafted out of one mountain of white marble with hints of black. Chess armored suits lined the hallway as the group leisurely followed the white rabbit, everyone taking in the regal sights like tourists being guided through a museum. Everyone’s high guard started to melt away at the welcoming, calm, regal atmosphere. Axiron’s guard shifted from preparing for combat to avoid being used as a pawn by whatever royalty ruled here. They couldn’t help but to feel tension leaving their shoulders as all nine members relaxed in the spotless environment. Clearly a battle had never been fought inside of these walls. They took a moment to check in on the other nobodies around them. The nobodies changed from an organized line to a group, eventually pairing off. Axiron walked next to Xirene while the others started to pair off. The silence faded from ominous to respect, not wanting to tarnish the august, marble walls with hick hollering. For being late, the white rabbit took its time guiding the nine through the castle. Eventually the group seemed to reach their designated meeting spot. Ahead were open ornate doors fit to house a throne. “That’s only fitting given this is a madman’s chess game.” They could help but to snicker back to the tickster as the group walked through the doors. A grand wooden table designed for extravagant feasts filled the center of the room. It was a long, spacious table with room for a continent’s royalty– but there were only nine table settings among the table. Each table setting was accompanied by a large, wooden, lavish seat– each seat could be considered a modest throne. Above the table were a sky of chandeliers, each one giving off a soft glow– soft white stars in a marble white sky. At the head of the table were three figures, going from normal to lucid dreaming. A woman on the left adorn in white; unfortunately for Xirene she appeared rather human and regal. A man in the middle in stark contrast to the white theme, wearing so many clashing colors he could have been a toddler’s failed art assignment. A . . um . . caterpillar on the right smoking out of a pipe as if it were oxygen– either Axiron accidentally ate some mushrooms in the toadstool woods or this caterpillar was smoking illicit substances. The white rabbit’s rhythmic foot thumping and the steady huffing and puffing of the caterpillar broke the room’s tranquil silence. The woman on the left introduced herself as the White Queen and the ruler of the castle; it didn’t take a detective to figure that one out. The toddler art project introduced himself as the Mad Hatter, and mad as he was tasteless. The caterpillar introduced itself as the caterpillar, another given, but more shockingly a being of wisdom. How wise was it to inhale vapor instead of air? As the queen introduced herself and motioned to the chairs the others started to take a seat.

Everyone took their expected seats. Zaexl and Xanthe sitting next to each other like father and creation. Valyrixis was next to the White Queen, commander and ruler were akin to one another. Xirene sat next to the caterpillar, most likely planning a trick or two in those clouds of smoke. Dauxine took the spot next to Xirene, while the others filled in the chairs. Axiron wasn’t keen on sitting and gorging on a feast celebrating the group’s near death victory. To them, this was utter disrespect and tasteless like how all royalty was. They didn’t give the feast a second thought and made their way to Xirene’s chair. Crossing their arms on the back of the chair, resting their chin in their arms, and leaning on the chair’s back while remaining standing. While they paid no attention to the food and drinks, the others were intrigued or tempted. Zaxel in all of his wisdom politely decline the food and drinks. Getting right to the point why the nine were where and why the White Queen summoned the nine. Xanthe was equally tempted and intrigued, going as far as inhaling the bakedgood’s enticing aroma and nearly taking a bite. Using the scholar as an example, she sneakily hid the cookie to avoid being rude; then, she not so sneakily took another cookie out of pure curiosity and stored it away for later. That dress had pockets? Axrael was the next to chow down on the baked goods, needing the carbs to restore his strength. His hunger was only matched by Dauxine’s, the medic unphased and completely jaded absentmindedly started to eat. Before she could suggest the others try the delectable baked goods she was shot daggers from across the room. Seeking refuge in hiding behind Xirene. Xathos seemed to down the potions in hopes it would cure that new found depression and self wallowing. The pain of that mangled arm must be getting to the sovereign. Axiron was shocked to watch Valyrixis’ exhaust and thirst override her judgment and down a potion as well. A rest? What in the wonderland had happened to everyone? They glanced down at Xirene to see if the other saw the sight before her. Xirene was completely absorbed in the caterpillar and all of its vapor glory. Truthfully they were as equally curious what was in the pipe. It was hard to place the smoke, but most likely either hookah or opium. Given the surrealism of Wonderland, an opium addicted caterpillar of wisdom made the most sense. They scoffed at the reply– it had to be opium, no one was that stingy with nicotine whether it was from tobacco or not. ”Think these are a trick or a treat?” Axiron jokingly inquired while gesturing to the drinks and bakedgoods. Rolling their eyes as she downed one of the potions and grabbing another. Bluntly, if this was a trick majority of the nine would be doomed. They hoped it was a genuine treat, but there was a caterpillar smoking opium in the room– this was still Wonderland, a lucid nightmare.









/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛Leox♛






Leox while grasping his chest, where his wound is, limped to where the rabbit impatiently waits. He noticed he was sitting or standing? In middle of the room where he sees an unfamiliar figure, to which was smiling towards him and the group. This smile sent an unsettling chill down his spine to which sent a jolt of pain on his chest. He slowly limped into the room and noticed her beckoning him to sit down. Leox eyeing her suspiciously sat down on the chair and she introduced herself as the Queen, and plates with pastries and a bottle were laid on the table.

"Please, choose one, the bottle with some liquid or pastries. Oh, and you obviously do not need to choose either of these." The Queen said staring at the group which were all seated now. Leox, stared at everyone and then looked at the pastry. His stomach rumbling loudly and his mouth started to water. He quickly grabbed the pastry and started to devour the pastry. He looked up at the group with his lips covered in cream and flakes of the pastries and gave everyone a huge smile as he burped.







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
Legacy Unbound
Scene 010
As everyone finished their refreshments — or didn't — the caterpillar watched with curious eyes, the occasional puff of smoke spilling from his lips and filling the air with a curious blue haze. His hands never released the pipe, even for a moment. Concurrently, the White Queen's smile remained unwavering, radiating a warmth that felt genuine rather than forced.

"An understandable and good question." She answered the Second. "I believe you're looking for the same someone that I am." Valyrixis's ears perked up at the mention of a lead towards the Elder.

"A rather... peculiar entity has entered our Wonderland, and he seems to be holding some power over my dearest sister, The Red Queen." The White Queen explained. The name alone made the Mad Hatter wince. "Cruel one, she is." He added with a shudder.

"Now, now." puffed the Caterpillar, each word veiled in a cloud of smog. "You mustn't speak of the White Queen's sister in such a manner. Lest you wish her to find out. We wouldn’t desire a repeat of the last tea party incident, would we?"

The Mad Hatter shook his head, slumping into his hand with a pout. His spare hand twirled an empty teacup, the motion almost absent-minded as he muttered, "No, not another incident."

"Ahem.. Whoever he is, he is not a part of Wonderland. Based on your similar attire, I presume it is he who you are looking for. He speaks of a power that has seduced my sister, her heart easily swayed. When I sent the Hare over, he overheard them speaking of a plan. Though not of what I know, I believe there might have been mentions of the releasing of... The Jabberwocky. We must stop this at all costs, else it will destroy Wonderland. If it were my sister's army, we could battle them, but I fear that whoever this man is holds a strength I know not of. Please, you must save us. You must save Wonderland."

"The Jabberwocky? What could th—"
Valyrixis began, but was abruptly cut off by the sudden blaring chiming of a bell.

The Mad Hatter jolted up with a shriek of joy. "It's time for the evening tea!"

In a whirlwind of movement, he grabbed the tablecloth from both ends, his limbs extending to inhuman lengths. In one swift motion, he bundled the entire setting into a tight knot and tossed it to one of the card guards near the door, who then soon vanished out of sight.

From his seemingly endless pockets, The Mad Hatter began pulling out a new tablecloth, each inch revealing more patchwork patterns. Once the new cloth was spread out, a team of the White Queen's servants entered, bringing identical teacups and pastries to those that had been on the table moments before, only now atop the new cloth.

"I will explain more come time for the morning tea. Please, you should all rest. You deserve it." The White Queen said, clapping her hands. A few servants entered the room promptly at her command. "I insist you take rest in our guest rooms. It would be my honor."

With that, the Mad Hatter continued to pour tea into a cup that never seemed to fill, while the Caterpillar took another leisurely gust from his pipe. The Queen waved to the group in farewell as they were gently escorted out of the room by the attentive servants.

Post Objective: A rest, finally! You are now divided into teams based on your choice. The subgroups are as follows:

Team 1 (Bottle): Valyrixis (Miki), Xathos (Khai), Xirene (Foxy)
Team 2 (Pastry): Dauxine (Miz), Axrael (Alex), Leox (Bryan)
Team 3 (Neither): Zexal (Z), Xanthe (Nano), Axiron (Lycan)

The effects of your choices will come into play during the next battle (they are not active yet). Here are the effects:

Team 1 (Bottle): Affects the throat — any text you speak will be illegible and must either be keyboard smashes or crypted script.
Team 2 (Pastry): Affects hunger — you'll be in 'hangry' mode, staying irritated throughout the fight for no real reason.
Team 3 (Neither): Affects memory — the caterpillar's second hand smoke will cause you to forget what you were IMMEDIATELY just doing every 4 sentences written.

This week is a SKIP WEEK. It is information ONLY. No posts due this week. Next GM post will be up next week with the prompt.


Code by Nano
 
Last edited:

giphy.gif

The next morning dawned gently, heralded by the soft singing of birds and the quiet hum of servants moving through the castle. The delicate rhythm of their footsteps was soon accompanied by the faint knocks on the doors of the organization members, each one an invitation to return to the tea room where they had gathered the night before.

Slowly, the group began to stir, some rising quickly, while others took their time, reluctant to leave the comfort of their beds. But one by one, they made their way through the grand halls, following the soft guidance of the servants who led them back to the familiar room.

Upon entering, they were greeted by the sight of a table laid out with tea and fresh bread, the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the windows. The White Queen sat at the head of the table, her smile as welcoming as the day before. As the members began to take their seats, the servants moved with practiced grace, placing before each of them a hearty breakfast of eggs, meat, and porridge.

There was no pressure to eat; the Queen’s gentle demeanor made it clear that their comfort was of the utmost importance. She took no offense at their caution, understanding the hesitancy of trust.

The White Queen waited with the patience; unruffled as the members either declined their meal or quietly finished their food. She sipped her tea in silence, her hands cradling the cup as she observed them with gentle eyes. Only when everyone had settled did she finally speak.

"I hope your stay here was comfortable." She began, her words laced with genuine concern. "I apologize for any discomforts you may have experienced. I don’t mean to disturb you, but if I may, I would like to revisit the conversation we had last night. It would be greatly appreciated."

She paused, her expression growing more serious, though the warmth in her voice never waned. "There has been a disturbance in Wonderland — a great roaring that echoes through the land every few hours. Based on the information gathered by the Hare, I believe the man you are searching for is responsible for summoning the Jabberwocky — a fearsome creature that resembles a dragon. Its claws are as sharp as daggers, and its teeth like razors. If left unchecked, it could bring about the downfall of Wonderland."

Her eyes flickered with a hint of fear, though she maintained her composure. "Please, I beg of you all, to help save our world. If the Jabberwocky is indeed released, as I fear, it could force open the Kingdom Hearts, even without a Keyblade. And if that power falls into the wrong hands… well, I shudder to think of what might become of all our worlds. The only way to reseal the beast is to retrieve the Vorpal Sword — a blade forged in the heart of Wonderland, imbued with the power to vanquish even the most fearsome of foes. It is the only weapon capable of containing the Jabberwocky's wrath and returning it to its slumber. I cannot ask this of you lightly. The journey will be perilous, and the challenges you face will be unlike any you have encountered before. But I believe in your strength, and in your hearts. Will you help us?"

Before anyone could answer, the Hare came bursting through the entrance door, his fur bristling with panic, eyes wide with alarm. "She's here! They're coming!"

The White Queen's serene composure faltered for the first time, her voice laced with concern. "Who, dear Hare? Who is coming?"

The Hare trembled, glancing around the room as if expecting the walls themselves to close in. "Your sister, Your Majesty — the Red Queen's army. They're marching towards the castle as we speak!"

"You must all go, else she will trap you here and now, and you will never reach the blade."
the White Queen urged, rising swiftly from her seat, the urgency in her voice palpable. "The keys!"

Within moments, a servant hurried into the room, carrying a briefcase with an air of gravitas. As the servant set the briefcase down and opened it, six keys were revealed, each adorned with strange, intricate symbols. "One of these keys will open the vault where the Vorpal Blade is kept. Which one will work... well, we haven't exactly had the chance to test that."


giphy.gif



The White Queen handed the briefcase to the Hare, who then urged everyone to follow him out of the room. "Please, be safe on your journey!" The group hurried after the Hare, leaving the tea room behind. As they moved through the castle's corridors, the distant sounds of screams and the clattering of armor echoed, growing louder with each passing moment.

Eventually, they reached a grand library, where the Hare tugged on a book, revealing a hidden passageway. "Hurry, hurry!" the Hare urged, ushering everyone down a narrow, spiraling staircase. The descent was steep, and the air grew colder as they went deeper underground, the sounds of the chaos above fading into the background.

The staircase eventually led to an underground tunnel system, dimly lit and damp with the scent of earth and stone. "The exit is just through that way," the Hare said, pointing down a dark tunnel. "Please, be on your w—"

His sentence was abruptly cut off by a tremendous rumble that shook the very foundation of the castle, as if it had been struck by a cannon. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling, and the ground beneath them trembled violently. The Hare, caught off guard by the quake, stumbled and dropped the briefcase. The keys spilled out, clattering onto the stone floor, scattering in all directions.


Copy-of-Copy-of-TITLE-PAGE-750-x-450-px-1200-x-800-px.png


Post Objective: TLDR: The Red Queen's army came to the castle and now we gotta dip. The Hare dropped the keys (of course he did). Now, every group has to pick a key, but with a twist. While the group must choose a key, individual members can also decide to write separately and pick their own key. For example, if Group 1 picks the "Moon" key, it will be pinged it in Discord. However, Miki might decide she wants to choose a different key on her own, even though she's part of Group 1, because she thinks there's a better answer. She will then write a not joint post, and choose this other key. Choosing separately isn't mandatory, but it could be fun.

Keys are first come, first served. Winners will get a multiplier for the next boss battle. Winner of that boss battle wins something (a seeeeccrettt).

Six keys lie within the twisted maze,
Each forged in madness, lost in haze.
One unlocks the endless night,
Another binds the realm of fright.

The keys bears the weight of doom,
Shapes like a tower, a throne, a tomb.
In the land where chaos breeds,
It alone fulfills the darkest needs.

Wielded by a giant hand,
It commands the fractured land.
Seek the key of storms and might,
In the grip of endless night.

Which key, in twisted lore,
Unlocks the gate where shadows soar?


 







♛ Pastry Eaters ♛






The Fifth had been cut off by a rabbit.

That's what it looked like, at least. From her place at the breakfast table across from him, Dauxine had allowed the vision of Axrael's intense eating to entertain her the way an early morning cartoon might've. Prompted by the queen to answer her call for help, it was a rabbit—compounded by his own mouthful—that stunted his attempt to volunteer help on their behalf.

In between the pleas for help & the distant marching, a heaviness weighed into Dauxine's ears, well enough to nearly deafen the sounds of strife from beyond the dining hall for the sake of her own mental fortitude. Fearing danger, a characteristic hunch of the woman's shoulder rose. Reliant on vision, it was Leox & Axrael—kindhearted to the point of ensuring the retreat of others before himself—whose forms she took to trailing behind, finding Xirene much too elusive to follow after.

Only in the library did calamity slow down for but a moment for the little group to catch their breath. Like patrons to a streetside food stop, each ducked into the narrow passageway that rabbit had revealed before them. The tip of Dauxine & Axrael's weapons glowed as the hall dimmed & cooled to a chill, acting unofficially as guides for the rest of their group to follow—the former, unwittingly.

As though such apprehension had been smote from powers above, a powerful tremor swept the balance from both her & the rabbit, knocking them plainly onto the dungeon's ground. Alongside the clatter of their varied weapons & accessories being met with the floor, a distinctive clinking spilled into the air. Like it were an auction, from just ahead, a call was heard: "Dauxine, go for that one!"

Instead, she glanced up. Again, the sight of an intense Axrael filled her vision &, at him, she squinted, "Go for what?"

"That one!" urged the Fifth.

Beside him, added Leox. just as urgent though softer, "With the, uhh, moon thing on it! Ah, never mind, I'll—" The instant he'd crouched, the thing—a crescent key—he'd been referencing had been snatched already. In seeing this, Axrael furrowed his brows at the shorter man & scolded, "You have to be quicker."

"I was!" came Leox's defense, taking a step toward Axrael, matching the other's frown. His gaze lingered toward where the crescent key had ended up. At it: a disappointed sigh.

In brilliant rebuttal, the light user shook his head, "Yeah, well... No."

Still from the ground below, Dauxine watched them bicker. It was when one key in particular glimmered that she thought to pipe up, "Oh, this one here seems nice, huh?" As though whistled to attention, both men turned to—again—watch such a key be snatched just before the reluctant reach of their healer. In near unison, both groaned at the sight: "Dauxine..."

Fueled by accusation, she scrambled to a defensive stand & hunched her shoulders at the pair: "Don't 'Dauxine' me! I tried!"

"Yeah, well! It didn't look like it," came defeatedly from the shorter haired blond; he remarked, "Look, now we get all the cruddy ones."

With a hopeful shift in weight, Leox offered, "That one there isn't too bad." Following his finger, he pointed at one that seemed to have an attached coathook—Saturn. At it, Dauxine bended down to pick it up. In doing so, the smallest movement of a peer beside her put her on the offensive & her motion turned toward a straight lunge at the unfortunate key. With a near 'humph,' Dauxine retrieved the key Leox had pointed out & planted it heavily into his chest, "Here!"

The nature of their subsequent argument forced their altercation into the background of their peers' interactions. Though, every once in a while, words & accusations made in poor taste echoed in the deep dungeon beneath the castle. The following come be heard: "Look, you made her cry." "Me?! You!" "Me?! Oh, that's rich..!" & then finally, "Waaaahhh..."






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛VAL, XATHOS, AND XIRENE♛






The night came and went with the drinkers none the wiser to the White Queen's concoction. Dreams of bipedal hares, floating smiles, and flying creatures dominated their dreams, though it didn't seem to have much of an effect on either Xathos, Valyrixis, or Xirene's slumber.

The Kingpin spent nearly an hour meditating before one of the queen's servants knocked on her door, her eyes closed but her hand gripping her sword for console. The Trickster was the next to rise, only requiring a few aggressive knocks before they rolled out of bed. The Sovereign left his bedroom last, taking full advantage of the hand mirror to inspect himself. Despite the lack of amenities in the White Queen's castle, his mastery of water magic allowed him to maintain his princely appearance. Dauxine's magic improved in recent weeks, erasing all evidence of yesterday's battle.

When they entered the dining room they were met with an array of teas, foods, and service that they could only dream of in their headquarters. Valyrixis took to the Earl Grey tea, taking light sips while Xathos picked out a few macarons and Xirene sampled just about everything the servants offered. While she would have normally exercised caution in unknown territory, the lack of consequences from yesterday's drink (along with an overnight stay) was enough to trust that the White Queen meant no harm.

But that didn’t mean she was housing them for free.

"There has been a disturbance in Wonderland — a great roaring that echoes through the land every few hours. Based on the information gathered by the Hare, I believe the man you are searching for is responsible for summoning the Jabberwocky — a fearsome creature that resembles a dragon. Its claws are as sharp as daggers, and its teeth like razors. If left unchecked, it could bring about the downfall of Wonderland," The White Queen explained.

"Eh what do you expect? The Elder's never been concerned with other people." Xirene shrugged and popped a macaroon in their mouth.

"Watch your tongue. That isn’t true." The Kingpin hushed harshly. Her lips pressed in a line as the other woman continued speaking. It wasn't as though Valyrixis was blind to The Elder's actions, but she ultimately often chose to look away. Sometimes sacrifices are required for the greater good.The concluding goal had always been Kingdom Hearts and she knew he wouldn't operate so recklessly. But still.. The Jabberwocky. The Kingpin bit the inside of her cheek to hold her own tongue from her thoughts.

Xathos was of the same mind as Xirene who was of the same mind as Val: if the White Queen was correct, this could very well be the day they reclaimed their hearts. Not that it mattered, The Sovereign already cemented as Somebody great in this world and the next; helping his other comrades would be a gesture of good will. (Xirene, of course, loved the idea of acquiring an otherworldly toy, but they weren't going to let Val catch wind of that).

The Kingpin opened her mouth to speak, only to pause when the White Hare burst into the room.

"Your sister, Your Majesty — the Red Queen's army. They're marching towards the castle as we speak!" he wailed as his head whipped around the room. Under normal circumstances, Xirene was sure that the nine could defeat any army but there was no time to raise arms--not when a cool sword The Elder was involved.

Just as when they first met, the team followed the Hare down an unknown path, culminating in a dark and narrow passageway. Each labored step seemed to jostle the keys inside the briefcase until finally, a tremendous rumbling shook them from their leathery home.

Six keys clattered to the ground, spreading out amongst the nine Nobodies trapped in the catacombs of the castle. There was little doubt that the Red Queen’s army breached the White Queen’s defenses–it would only be a matter of time before they caught up to the group.

As everyone began snatching keys, The Kingpin, The Trickster, and The Sovereign locked their eyes on a key with a crescent handle.

Xirene stepped forward, grabbing the Moon Key and leading the way to their prospective new weapon.




/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛Paranoia Party♛






The next morning, the organization members reconvened with the White Queen after a pleasant sojourn in her grand palace. The marble surroundings and serene atmosphere provided them with a much-needed respite from the trials of the hedge maze the previous day. But such peace was fleeting. The calm of dusk belied the turmoil that dawn would bring.

As they gathered in the queen’s tea room, her gentle demeanor was tinged with a hint of urgency. The White Queen spoke once again of the Jabberwocky, a monstrous creature of unimaginable power, one that threatened to end all worlds—a harbinger of destruction.

At that, Zexal latched onto the words leaving her tongue. His interest piqued.

So, there was another way to unlock Kingdom Hearts after all, one that didn't require that numbskull.

The Scholar shot a momentary, disdainful glare at Axrael.

The sudden gesture wasn’t lost on Xanthe, though the meaning behind it certainly would. Oblivious to The Scholar’s true thoughts, the young woman’s eyes meandered between the two figures until she ultimately gave up on making sense of the odd exchange. Perhaps The Keyblade Wielder had offended her creator during the brief moment she hadn’t been looking—a not uncommon occurrence given his boisterous nature and lack of manners.

A minor tiff, Xanthe determined while barely putting in the minimum effort required to listen to the queen’s next words.

Regardless of Axiron’s original distrust in the White Queen, they had to admit the accommodations were delightful. There was a slight bitter taste in their mouth after a good night’s rest– royalty weren’t charitable, nothing was for free. Night faded into morning. The White Queen’s servants woke the nobodies up, collecting the nine back to the colossal dining room. Breakfast galore covered the table from end to end. The majority of the others had grown comfortable from the royal treatment, but they were still leery. It seemed odd to them the White Queen was only drinking tea, not joining the nine in the feast as equals. For now they ignored the food. Circling back to the previous conversation, the White Queen gave more details about Wonderland’s impending doom. Jabberwocky, a nonsensical name for a lucid dreamland. The mention of the Elder releasing this nightmare dragon piqued their interest. A way to open Kingdom Hearts without the keyblade? Axiron had never trusted the Elder and continued to disdain the man more with each passing moment. They gazed at the other eight nobodies to gauge everyone’s reactions. Xirene was expected, the trickster frequently expressed her distrust of the Elder. Valyrixis’ immediate distort was expected, but it wasn’t as violent nor harsh as expected. Was their leader starting to have doubts in the Elder? Zaxel was keen on this new information, shooting a disdainful glare at Axrael. Was it possible the scholar knew more about this alternative avenue to Kingdom Hearts? Xanthe was a replica of the keyblade wielder, the scholar most likely had some hidden knowledge or secret. It would be a lie to say the Vorpal Sword didn’t pique their interest further. For now they remained silent, simply observing.

As the queen continued to speak, a quiet stream of selfish ambition began to meander through his conscience. Tilting his head slightly downward, Zexal discreetly nodded to himself, pondering the possibility. Quickly, he raised his head back toward the queen, his expression a feigned smile, but his mind was anything but lulled.

Just when matters seemed like they couldn't get any more interesting, they received news that the White Queen's sister was on her way, with an entire army as her entourage. The White Queen urged the organization to leave at once, ordering The Rabbit to escort them through the castle's hidden catacombs.

They descended, deeper, and deeper.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble violently, as if the very earth was about to rend in half. Dust and debris rained from above, and in the moment, Zexal’s instincts took over, shielding Xanthe, even though she was the tougher one between them. He loathed the thought of anything harming his creation. The vainglorious scholar would protect his great work, his magnum opus, fiercely—until she was perfected; immortal; invincible.

The creation under his protection, however, frowned in response. Not a scowl or expression of irritation, but a frown nonetheless. If The Scholar still felt the need to protect her, perhaps she was still far too fragile and weak. Even so, she held back her request for the man to always focus on himself first, for it was not her place to question his actions.

Even if she strongly believed that she was replaceable while he was not.

The shaking caused the briefcase to slip from The Rabbit's grasp, falling to the ground. Its contents spilt out, scattering across the floor with a metallic clatter. Keys of all shapes and sizes tumbled out, each one unique in shape and size.

Useless... he sighed.

One key found itself at the tip of Zexal’s boot. With a slight gesture of his index and middle fingers, he used the wind to beckon the key into his hand, inspecting its peculiar design. "Hmm..."

As The Scholar inspected the key in his hand, The Replica bent down to poke at a different key. This one had a circle with an arrow sticking out of it, the symbol for the male gender. But what did that have to do with whatever vault the queen mentioned? She hadn’t given any conclusive hints, or been particularly helpful regarding the matter, unless she’d simply missed something during her speech.

Concerned that she’d end up losing the key, Xanthe dusted off her skirt and rose back up without picking any of the fallen keys. Considering her creator had picked out one particular key, she was quickly convinced that he had managed to figure something out. As for the symbol on the key he was holding, the meaning completely evaded her. It looked like a 4 with a curled line?

Hmm, perhaps she should’ve read more of those books The Scholar recommended in the past.

The room grew silent as the White Queen spoke. Everyone either lost in the feast or quietly thinking to oneself. Breaking the silence were the thumping feet of the white rabbit. With the same urgent tone as every time before, that damned rabbit declared the castle was under attack. On que a servant came with a briefcase of potential keys to the Vorpal Blade. Thundering cannon fire echoed through the air as the impact shook the castle. The invasion was here and now– the Elder was most likely near. The white rabbit took the briefcase and began hopping in a hurry. Axiron could only sigh knowing this would end in another wild goose chase. The white rabbit guided the nine through the twists and turns of the castle– like every other damn path in this world. Couldn’t one single part of Wonderland be straight forward? Or at the least not cause vertigo from the drastic turns and curves. Echoes of war traveled through the castle as the nine followed the white rabbit. It was just far enough in the background to turn this tranquil atmosphere to one of ominous, impending doom. From hall, to room, to corridor the nine followed. Finally the nine were lead into a grand library and a dead end. Without missing a beat the white rabbit revealed a hidden passage. A spiraling staircase that descended into darkness. The white rabbit attempted to give the nine further instructions but was interrupted by another cannon impact. The briefcase containing all of the potential keys to the Vorpal Blade slipped out of the rabbit’s hand, descending down the staircase. Fortunately the keys were scattered at the top of the stairs. The nine each took to a specific key for one reason or another. Given the situation, Axiron was more inclined to let the others decide. Mostly interested in the keys Xirene and Zaxel had picked.











/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
Last edited:
Legacy Unbound
Scene 010
With each group carefully selecting their keys, the Hare led them into the narrow, spiraling tunnels beneath the castle. The air grew damp and musty as they descended, with mold and creeping vines clinging to the ancient brick walls, a confirmation to how long these passages had been forgotten. The further they ventured, the narrower the path became, the once spacious corridor tightening into a suffocating passageway. The walls pressed closer, rough bricks scraping against their shoulders, forcing them into a single-file line as they navigated the twisting maze.

"We're almost there." The Hare whispered, his voice barely a breath above the oppressive silence. Yet above them, the stillness was shattered by the frantic shouts of soldiers. Their voices, harsh and panicked, echoed through the stone above. The soldiers barked orders, their yells bouncing off the walls as they searched desperately for the team that had vanished into the depths. Among their cries, the White Queen's name was mentioned, hints of her escape woven into the chaos. The Hare flinched as a particularly heavy footstep sent a tremor through the ceiling above, dislodging chunks of debris that rained down, coating his shoulders in dust. He hesitated, glancing upward with a mixture of worry and resolve, but still he knew to press on in their borrowed time.

It wasn’t until a faint glimmer of sunlight appeared at the end of the tunnel that the Hare quickened his pace, a spark of excitement lighting up his face. The sight of freedom was enough to spur him on, his steps growing faster as the promise of escape drew closer. When they finally reached the end, they were met with an old, weathered door, partially obscured by thick vines and overgrown vegetation. A small, open window at the top allowed a sliver of sunlight to filter through. The door itself was flimsy, the wood swollen with age and damp, requiring a hard push to budge.

With the help of the member directly behind the Hare, they managed to force the door open, its hinges creaking in protest as it finally gave way. The moment the door swung open, warm sunlight flooded in, bathing the group in its golden glow. The contrast between the dim tunnel and the bright outside world was almost blinding, but the Hare didn’t hesitate. He jumped outside with a joyful leap, his earlier tension melting away as he brushed the dust from his shoulders, a wide grin spreading across his face. The fresh air and warmth of the sun felt like a victory, a long-awaited relief after the dark and winding journey through the underground catacombs.

Waiting for them near the dirt path was a wagon, cleverly disguised as a merchant vehicle. As the group emerged into the sunlight, one of the card guards from the White Queen's castle disembarked from the cart, moving swiftly to meet them. Without a word, the guard began handing out cloaks, each one a drab, dusty brown, meant to conceal their identities as they hid beneath the tarp of the wagon. Some members accepted the veils gratefully, eager to avoid the trouble brewing in the chaos they had just escaped. They pulled the hoods over their heads without complaint, relieved to be one step closer to safety. Others, however, grumbled at the state of the cloaks, their noses wrinkling at the musty smell and the dust that clung to the fabric. But despite their discomfort, they understood the necessity, and one by one, they donned the cloaks and climbed aboard.

The coach creaked under their weight as they settled in, the heavy tarp pulled over them, blocking out the sunlight once more. The air inside was thick with the scent of earth and old fabric, but there was no turning back now. The journey ahead would be long, taking them deep into the mountains — the remote hideaway of fabled Vorpal Blade awaited.

To say it was a bumpy ride would be an understatement. The wagon jolted and rattled with every rock and rut in the road, sending the group lurching in their seats. At times, the jolts were so violent that they were nearly lifted into the air, their heads grazing the low ceiling of the wagon as they came crashing back down. The velocity of the bumps was enough to jar even the most seasoned travelers, and it wasn't surprising that a few of them hit their heads on the way down, wincing at the sharp pain.

Through it all, the only response from the driver, the card guard, was a hurried, "Sorry!", called back over his shoulder, without so much as a glance to check on anyone. He didn't slow down, either, the wagon barreling forward as if they had no time to spare. The group's grumbles of discomfort were lost in the clattering of wheels over uneven ground, and they could do little but hold on tight and brace themselves for the next jolt.

It was a rough, relentless journey, with no relief in sight. The road to the mountains was unforgiving, and the ride itself felt like a test of endurance. But after a few grueling hours, the wagon finally came to a halt at the foot of a towering ridge. The abrupt stop was almost a relief, the rough ride coming to an end at last. As the group gathered their bearings, they noticed the entrance to a cave looming ahead, partially obscured by the thick brush and shadows cast by the mountain.

The den entrance was gloomy and portent, a gaping maw in the side of the mountain that seemed to beckon them forward. The air was cooler here, tinged with the earthy scent of the mountain and the faint, damp smell of the cave. The silence was deafening after the constant clatter of the wagon, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird.

The card guard dismounted from the driver's seat and gestured towards the cave with a nod, his expression serious. "This is it." He said. "The entrance to the hideaway. The Vorpal Blade is inside, somewhere deep within the mountain."

Some members grumbled under their breath, while others simply nodded in silent acknowledgment, as the Kingpin took the lead, motioning for the group to follow with their weapons drawn as there was no telling who — or what — they might find in there. As they stepped into the cave, the light from outside quickly faded, swallowed by the inky darkness within. Only a few beams of light filtered through small holes in the ceiling, casting scattered patches of illumination on the floor. The walls were rough and cold to the touch, their surface slick with moisture. Above, crystalline formations jutted down from the roofing, creating natural stalactites. Occasionally, a droplet of water would break the silence, echoing through the cavern as it dripped slowly from the tips of the stalagmites to the ground below.

The group moved cautiously, weapons at the ready, eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of movement. The cave felt alive, as though it was watching them, waiting to reveal whatever secrets it held within its depths. And yet, in the end, nothing appeared before them. The cave remained eerily silent, offering no resistance or threat as they ventured deeper. Then, as they rounded a final corner, their eyes were drawn to the center of the chamber, where a glaringly obvious clear case stood, illuminated by the faint shafts of light filtering through the cave ceiling.

Inside the case rested what looked like a plain silver sword, thin and long, almost resembling a lancer’s weapon. Its simplicity was deceptive, for as they approached, the sword seemed to pulse with a subtle glow. The white light it emitted was soft yet persistent, as if the blade were alive, yearning to be freed from its transparent prison. The Vorpal Blade — legendary, mysterious — was right before them, waiting patiently for the one who would dare to release it and wield its power.

Post Objective: I yapped and I'm not sorry :'). Posts this week will be collaboration open again, but please write them separately if that works best.
The answer to last week's riddle was Jupiter, I say, wondering if I made it too easy because every group mentioned it LOL. Dang it.
Team 3 will have a multiplier for the boss battles coming.

Post objective is to react to everything that happened as you choose, and to eventually have your group post try and fail/success opening the case with their key. Because of this, Team 3 has to post last. Therefore, the due date for posts for Team 1 and 2 are Sunday 8/25 as usual while Team 3's due date is Monday 8/26. More will be written in the discord. Happy posting!

Code by Nano
 







THE DRAMA CLUB






Xirene stayed not a hare hair behind the White Hare as he led everyone towards the vault. Curiouser and curiouser was what this world was supposed to be, but the tunnels only tightened like a snake strangling its prey. It wasn’t long before the walls forced everyone into a harried, single file line.

The Trickster nearly crashed into the Hare when the creature suddenly halted, watching dust fall from the ceiling above. It wouldn’t be long before the Red Army overwhelmed the White Queen and the last thing they wanted to do was die with six of the worst people he knew (six of the only people he knew), Dauxine, and Axiron.

“Hey! Let’s keep going!” Xirene gave him a light push before a beam of sunlight renewed the vigor in the Hare’s heart.

The blinding light seared through the dimness that had enveloped Valyrixis and her group just moments before, stark and unforgiving. It cut through the murk like a blade, forcing her to squint against its intensity. The sudden shift from darkness to brightness was disorienting, and the pain it caused was sharp. Valyrixis instinctively raised her arm, attempting to block out the harsh rays, though the light still managed to slip through the gaps between her fingers.

Despite the discomfort, Valyrixis continued to step forward with her group members, the team soon welcomed by the embrace of a forest. A rare smile tugged at the corners of Valyrixis's lips as the scent of fresh greenery filled her lungs — a refreshing contrast to the thick dust and stale air of the tunnels they'd just traversed. The earthy aroma was almost intoxicating, a welcome reminder of life beyond the suffocating darkness they had left behind. She allowed herself a brief moment of contentment, savoring the natural fragrance and the soft rustle of leaves in the distance.

But the smile was fleeting, quickly replaced by a frown as something heavy and damp settled over her head. The sensation was jarring, dragging her back to reality with an unpleasant shock. She reached up to feel the material, her fingers brushing against the rough, sodden fabric of a cloak that clung to her like a second skin. It was drenched, weighing her down with its cold, clammy embrace. “Anyone else have a wet cloak?” She whispered with a hiss. “Great.”

“Cry me a river.” Xathos bemoaned, angular brows knitted in barely hidden irritation. “This will ruin my skin for weeks.” A grimace was left permanently carved in, for all intents and purposes, immaculate features — not a stain to speak of, nor fabric saturated enough to be any more than vaguely damp. There was a soft solace to be had with vigor slowly returning to the sovereign’s will. First words are oft better than none, and anger is always a welcome visitor in war as opposed to sorrow. Perhaps it came from finally getting his arm fixed.

Fingers flexed one by one, tensing a newly healed forearm as regenerating fibers all but made way for the biting aches that still riddled bones once crushed. The blonde could feel each muscle’s growth expedited, blood running through veins unmasticated. He had never sustained such a grave injury before, and the shame and disappointment curdled in his gut like an iron brand. There was no telling when it will come to scathe him once more, and he vows that once is enough. This will not happen again.

Or he supposes he can as long as it was worth it.

There is one itch that he cannot scratch however, well beyond anyone’s means or capacity. Where was a mirror when you needed one? The man was almost beside himself, glowering further into ire as he reasoned with his cloak, adjusting his locks. Two white hot dots burnt itself into the back of his head, however, and in normal circumstances, he would have had the grace to appraise the circumstances and respond appropriately.

Such were not opportune times. The course of action he took was to glare straight back. “What are you looking at?”

The moon key... Valyrixis felt its weight resting heavily in her hand, the cool metal pressing against her palm. She examined its intricate molding, her heart fluttering with a cautious hope. Perhaps this was the key that would unlock the case before her. Or maybe, she thought, it was just wishful thinking. But when she twisted her wrist, the key remained stubbornly in place, refusing to budge.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
Last edited:







♛ Pastry Eaters ♛






There was a moment where the hushed comments & conversations of the other members stilled to where a cough from Dauxine could break the gradual silence. The mold apparent at the walls must've floated in an unseen manner all around to where the pink-haired woman, from then on, yanked the collar of her organization's coat over her mouth as they crept deeper.

It was only when there was need to squint against the sudden flood of sunlight that her hand fell to grab & pass back drab cloaks. Though Dauxine's distaste for the smell was, again, muted, the same could not be said for the Fifth's reaction beside both herself & Leox. Like they weren't fleeing from imminent danger, Axrael's voice rang clear: "These... reek, holy—"

"Axrael."

"Right, my bad... Thank you, Hare."

Dauxine's chin didn't hold long enough to see the rabbit's reaction to the Fifth's appreciation. It'd seemed to her that the contempt shared between the three had earlier dissipated; it must’ve been their group's journey through the catacombs-esque halls of the castle below that did it. Truthfully, the silence that befell the little trio Dauxine had found herself within made her shoulders hunch. There was comfort in conversation, so—oddly—she piped up, “What do you suppose the blade looks like?”

“It has to be epic,” said Leox. At this, Axrael nodded vehemently: “Yeah! I bet with one swing, the dragon goes down instantly.”

Though, in hearing this, Leox curbed his enthusiasm to question, “I don’t know about instant… Maybe it’s like—”

Axrael, however, didn’t give the man such an opportunity. He insisted, “It has to be instant. This blade decides the fate of this entire world, the Queen said; how could it not be?”

Between them, The Sage warned: “Boys.”

Still, on they went. Leox urged his account, saying, “She didn’t say that! She said it could defeat the dragon, not evaporate it.”

“It has to be big enough to slice a dragon in one slice,” argued The Keyblade Wielder. This, even Leox couldn’t argue against as he himself had heard: “I heard it's from the tooth of a dragon itself.”

The wonder shared between the two men did well to mildly elate The Sage, chuckling as she mused, “Wherever did you hear that?”

Feeling a sort of fever beneath his collar, Leox tugged at it with a stutter to explain that he’d heard a guard say it, to which Axrael squinted & argued the validity of ‘those guys,’ namely the Jokers.

The argument & the subsequent heated discussions that came from it continued even up the bumpy road. With every jolt suffered by the wagon, it’d seemed that the overall mood of the trio got bumped down a notch. When the mouth of the present cave was finally before them, did the three seem to have regained a sense of calm.

Axrael and Dauxine, especially, were doing their best to maintain their coolheadedness. At this point, as they delved deeper into the dungeon, the conversation between the three had shifted to the topic of who was to unlock the blade’s case.

Dauxine, as was typically, felt an overwhelming sense of pressure in the prospect of being this key’s wielder herself. Were it her decision, someone—anyone—was much more equipped than herself. All the while, so the conversation led, Axrael explained that he didn’t want to bar anyone’s opportunity to do so; equally, he told them, it was more a matter of safety to him. He offered his hand at taking watch while another opened the case. In saying so, Axrael even motioned the turning of the key in the air.

Frustrated & nearly infuriated by the back & forth, it was Leox’s sudden lunge towards the key in Axrael’s palm that stunned the other two into silence.

The Fifth, off of pure instinct, clutched the key with all of his might & bore a slightly irritated glare into The Disciple. Just what possessed the man to do something so aggressive and uncalled for? They struggled for the key for a moment and with one final pull for Axrael the key snapped in two.

Having stuttered in her place, Dauxine could only watch as the key’s halves clinked onto the floor. There went their decision to make: in two, on the floor. A close eye might’ve caught tears welling into the pink-haired woman’s eyes:

“We’ve doomed Wonderland…”






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛ZEXAL♛






The Second pulled the tattered cloak tighter around his shoulders and drew the hood low over his eyes. Without wasting another second, he vaulted into the back of the cart, graceful like a zephyr. Once inside, he turned and offered his hand to Xanthe, helping her climb up beside him with a brief, unreadable glance.

"Here, get in."

Wherever they were heading, it was no gentle ride. The cart rocked and jolted as it barreled down the rough trail, each jarring bump tossing the passengers about like leaves caught in a storm. Bodies collided, limbs flailed, and more than once, Zexal found himself on the receiving end of a stray elbow or knee to the face, eliciting a growl of annoyance from The Scholar. Though beneath the shaded darkness of the tarp, it was hard to tell by whom.

After what felt like an uncomfortable eternity of being jostled and battered, the cart came to an abrupt stop. The sudden halt sent everyone lurching forward, and unfortunately for Zexal, he found himself at the bottom of the heap. Daylight stunned his eyes as the tarp was lifted, meaning it was time to leave. He began pushing others off him, crawling and clawing his way to freedom from the human sandwich.

Breathing a low curse under his breath, Zexal scrambled out of the cart, dusting himself off as he straightened. They now stood at the mouth of a cave, draped in vines and tangled vegetation. Whatever they sought was hidden at the heart of this cave. The Scholar followed Valyrixis’ lead, motioning for Xanthe to follow. The inside was cool and damp, the darkness broken only by sunbeams that filtered through cracks in the lethal icicle-like ceiling.

The group wound through twisting tunnels and narrow passages until they reached a deeper chamber, where a crystal sarcophagus lay bathed in a single ray of light. Encased within was an argent sword, gleaming untarnished by the dust and dirt of its earthy tomb.

The others made attempts to open the coffer but ultimately failed. An unsurprising couple even managed to break their key in half, followed by the telltale echoing cry of a certain pink-haired softy.

Zexal scoffed. "Idiots..." he muttered under his breath, snapping a glare at the culprits. "If that was the right key, then the Jabberwocky won't even get the chance to tear them to shreds... I'll do it myself." he threatened with Xanthe, and even Axiron within earshot. Not that he cared if others knew what he thought. It was no secret that he had qualms with most of the group. However, he doubted some possessed the necessary braincells to realise that. Leox was overly sensitive anyway, Xathos would simply be in denial that anyone could possibly hate him, Dauxine was capable of crying over just about anything, and Axrael... well... let's just say he was far too dimwitted to know if anyone hated him, even if they told him right to his face.


Now, it was all up to him. The final key rested in The Scholar's hand.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the key he picked earlier. His eyes narrowed as he held it before him, the burden of expectation weighing heavy on his shoulders. This had to be the one. If not, they were all done for.

He clenched the object tightly in his fist, knowing what needed to be done. With a curt nod toward Xanthe, he strode forward, patting Axiron’s shoulder as he passed, signalling The Iconoclast to step aside.

As he got closer, it was as if the sword was responding to the key, glowing, pulsating, brighter, faster, like a heartbeat, yearning for something to set it free at long last. Stepping into the light at the centre of the room, Zexal removed his hood, gazing at the lock. With a deep breath, he carefully slid the key into the keyhole feeling the subtle click as it fit perfectly into place. Slowly, he twisted the key.

Suddenly, a blinding light erupted from the coffer, bursting forth in all directions. "Aargh!" The Scholar shielded his face with x-crossed arms, feeling an immense wave of power washing over him and through the cave, causing the entire chamber to tremble.

Then, it stopped. Just as quickly as it had come, the light vanished.

The chamber returned to its natural gloom, leaving only the legendary Vorpal Blade suspended in the air. It beckoned The Scholar to seize it. Zexal’s wide, pearly eyes gleamed with a hypnotic sheen as he stared, utterly mesmerized by the blade’s beauty.

Unable to resist, Zexal reached out, his hand trembling with reverence.







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛Xanthe♛





The keys had been collected, and thus began their descent into the mold-ridden corridors twisting and writhing about the castle’s damp underground. Xanthe’s eyes narrowed, reflecting the tightening of the passages as they grew more and more claustrophobic. That damned hare truly seemed to love these odd, single-file passages whether it be above or underground. Was it doing this on purpose? She would have loved to give him a little kick, but ensuring that she wasn’t separated from The Scholar again or worse—taking a tumble down yet another ditch dug in the middle of nowhere—unfortunately took precedence.

Past the noise and a wooden door that had clearly seen better days sat a simple merchant’s wagon, or at least a vehicle that looked like one. Between the decrepit door and the shabby cloaks that clearly hadn’t been cleaned in who knows how long, she wasn’t too keen on trusting that the wheels on the wagon were in much better condition. However, she nonetheless obediently took her creator’s proffered hand and seated herself closest to The Scholar and furthest from The Trickster.

She would quickly find out that her purposeful seating arrangement would do little to provide a safe and comfortable trip.

“Sorry!” came the voice of the card guard driving this damned wagon, but his voice was drowned out by the bumps and bruises. Xanthe herself would contribute to the noise, finally snapping when she felt an elbow dig into her ribs for the fourth time.

“Damn you!”
she hissed, yet her grievances would be cut short when another bump nearly clicked her teeth shut over her tongue.

The following hours did wonders for her mood, and the young woman dramatically clasped her hands together to thank whatever nonexistent god for finally pulling them out of that hell. Secretly, she also wished that she’d never have to see the guard who’d been driving the wagon ever again. Both for her sake and his.

However, the drama wouldn’t stop there. While The Replica was busy nursing her upset stomach, The Kingpin had already tried to unlock the case allegedly containing the item that they’d come here for (what was it called again?) only for the key to stubbornly refuse to turn. As for the key held in the palm of The Keyblade Wielder…

“At least…that wasn’t the right key,”
Xanthe said while looking at The Sage sympathetically. Though the key had yet to be tested before The Disciple and The Keyblade Wielder had foolishly broken it like two children fighting over a toy, The Replica’s tone remained self-assured, as if what she was saying was already a proven fact. Had she been standing closer to the woman, she would have even given her two reassuring pats on her shoulder.

True to Xanthe’s show of confidence, one turn of The Scholar’s key would trigger a surge of power and light to flood the cave, yet her calm quickly morphed into panic when she was blinded by the blade’s release.

Peeking one eye open, she spotted her creator reaching out for the blade. Her next actions were almost instinctive as her hand shot out and attempted to grasp at his sleeve to warn him to take caution.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







♛Axiron♛






The white rabbit recovered quickly from that embarrassing fumble of the keys. Quickly motioning for the nine nobodies to continue forward. As they continued onward the passageway continued to narrow. Stones carved from master masons turned into rough, textured cave walls. Axiron was growing old of Wonderland’s love of claustrophobic spaces– was this some kind of mild personal hell? They chose to stay at the rear as all nine were once again forced into a single file line.. The battle above echoed throughout the cave system. Canon fire echoed and rumbled as the all too familiar sound of casualties loomed above. This scene was all too familiar; yet, they couldn’t place when or where they’d encountered such battles. It seemed to be an old nightmare carved into their very soul. It was hard to judge how long the nine had been walking. There were too many twists and turns to count. The pathway became so narrow only a rabbit could comfortably fit. Perhaps it was the near cave darkness. Perhaps it was the disorientation caused by squeezing through cave tunnels. But the sounds of battle slowly started to fade into the depths of the catacomb caves. Axiron did their best to focus on one step at a time. Locking their focus on each little glimmer of outside light. Even the sounds of everyone ahead complaining gave them some solace. It could have been mere minutes, but this journey felt like a millennia. The first sign of freedom was a subtle breeze. Fresh air softly flowing through the tight corridors– a sign freedom was around the corner. Shouts of joy and cheer could be heard ahead as the nine made it out of the underground cave system. The white rabbit was the first to cheer and run out. By the time Axiron finally escaped this little nightmare the soldier at the merchant wagon was handing out old cloaks. It was humorous to disguise a group in black cloaks with tan, worn canvas cloaks. Those exclamations of joy turned into mild discontent at the status of the cloaks.

Heavily used and worn, the tan canvas had a mildew odor to it. Like laundry that was left in the wash and never quite made it to the dryer. Given the status of the merchant wagon, that was hitting the nail on the head. While some either complained or reluctantly accepted the cloaks, Axiron took a look behind the nine. Even from this little dream oasis out of the catacomb caves, he could see smoke in the distance. War was at the White Queen’s doorstep– war the organization's Elder had brought. Guilt crept up and spread through their fiery soul, the Elder was their problem alone. Unknowingly and indirectly the nine had brought this war to the castle door. To know they had a role to play in the casualties littering those castle grounds was nauseating. They didn’t need a heart to feel that guilt turn into sorrow. The soldier gave them the last cloak, motioning for them to follow the others into the wagon. The canvas was sun bleached to a faded tan. The individual fibers locked together had cracks of dark brown, hints of the cloak’s once vibrant hue. Well worn with a hint of mildew, it was a generous gesture they didn’t deserve. ”We’re late for an important date. . “ was all Axiron could mutter. Walking to the wagon and taking the last available spot towards the back. Their gaze transfixed on the billowing smoke as the wagon hasted forward. Ignoring the first uncomfortable bumps, keeping their focus on that grey pillar. Even as the warzone faded into the background– they couldn’t turn their gaze away. Like the canvas cloaks, this wagon was about functionality first and foremost with comfort a distant consideration. Every bump was amplified and made worse from the breakneck speed. Everyone was tossed around, from being launched into the wooden arches or pushed into a neighboring nobody. Curses and whimpers were muttered under everyone’s breath; but, Axiron had little room to complain. This felt like small karma for what the card soldiers were going through thanks to that damned Elder. Complaints turned into idle chatter. The loudest topic of discussion was about the Vorpal Blade. How powerful the blade must be. Was it magical that could kill a dragon in one blow? Was it massive like a horse slaying sword? Axrion had to admit, the banter helped break up the constant complaining. It was even a bit humorous to hear the sage scold Axrael and Leox for getting too heated talking about the legendary blade. However the blade defeated the Jabberwocky or whatever shape it took, their only hope was that one of the nine could wield it. They couldn’t bear placing that responsibility and burden onto another soul. The wagon’s turbulence took a toll on everyone, and even that heated discussion died down. Personally, they’d rather have a boxing match of a wagon ride compared to the claustrophobic pathways Wonderland loved to torture them with. Even when being tossed and hurled around, there was enough room and fresh air for all nine nobodies. There was no telling how long the trip took, but eventually the wagon came to a screeching halt. Axiron had to grab onto the wagon to avoid being catapulted over the back. Between a mixture of crawling and climbing, all nine made it out of the wagon.

The nine went from a cave system to a mountain side. The white rabbit was adamant this was the Vorpal Blade’s resting ground. It was rather anticlimactic. Every place in Wonderland was like lucid dreaming. From the toadstool woods, to the Dande-lion’s hedge maze, and down to the regal White Queen’s Castle. This was just a mountain, a large cave opening, covered with overgrown foliage. This mountain seemed normal– nothing like Wonderland’s twisted dreamscape. As annoying as the white rabbit was, the rodent had been the nine’s faithful guide. Valyrixis took the lead, walking into the entrance with the white rabbit. Everyone else followed suit, with Axiron taking the rear once more. True to Wonderland the cave was something out of a fantasy. Colossal crystallized stalactites and other naturally formed structures filled the cave. Most grabbed their weapons in anticipation, but Axiron kept theirs holstered. There was something ethereal about this place. Something sacred truly rested here. Something that could banish the darkness that followed the nine nobodies. The cave was wide and open– the atmosphere had an honest feel to it. It didn’t take the nine long to reach the chamber hidden in the cave. Before the nine stood a clear case with a thin, silver blade. It wasn’t a sword in the traditional sense, but something akin to a lance. Perhaps that banter of it being related to a horse slaying sword wasn’t far off. For such a sacred treasure the clear case was simple, a stark contradiction to everything in Wonderland. No tricks. Now it was time to try the keys the nobodies were able to retrieve. Valyrixis was the first to try her key. It slid into the lock, but nothing else happened. The kingpin was careful to avoid breaking the key in the lock. The kingpin stepped aside in mild defeat to let the others try. Dauxine, Axrael, and Leox started to bicker on who would open the case. Well, Axrael and Leox bickered while Dauxine tried to play mediator. That banter about the Vorpal Blade didn’t cool down as previously thought. Emotions quickly became heated and there was a thundering snap that echoed through the cave– Axrael had broken the key while avoiding Leox’s grasp. Dauxine nearly cried from disappointment and an overwhelming feeling of doom. Zaxel even muttered some threats under his breath, if that was the key then those boys wouldn’t get to face the Jabberwocky. Axiron remained silent with their eyes transfixed on the Vorpal Blade. If that key was meant to be then it wouldn’t have snapped– the blade was waiting. Xanthe let the scholar grab the key. The scholar put his hand on their shoulder, motioning for them to step aside. Axiron moved to create a path, but still kept close to the blade. A powerful weapon always had consequences, most equal to the power it gave. There was a reason the Vorpal Blade was encased and hidden. A life for a life. Third time’s the charm, Zaxel’s key slid into the lock, activated the chamber, and opened the case. A brilliant white light filled the cave causing everyone to shield themselves. Axiron stayed close, using their hand to cover their eyes. Their eyes widened as Zaxel absentmindedly reached out for the floating, glowing blade. It was unlike the scholar to act without logic nor reason. Xanthe reached out for the scholar’s arm instinctively to protect him. The Scholar had much to live for, so did everyone else. Axiron had made their decision while in the catacombs. Moving faster than the Scholar and grabbed the blade firmly. ”You have a bright future ahead, ya know?” Axiron said to Zaxel in a hushed tone and with a smile.










/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top