Past is Prologue: Angantyr

Past is Prologue: Angantyr
Date of Scene:	23 July 2013
Location:	Castle Oblivion
Synopsis:	The past is prologue. All else is chicanery and nonsense. Until it's not.
Thanks to:	Angantyr for patience.
Cast of Characters:	Mystery Box (Aka: Riku), Angantyr Vespar
Tinyplot:	Fragmentary Passage

---

Mystery Box has posed:
There is another feeling of distortion and perspective shift on going through the doors. Lucas says nothing but simply allows Angantyr to pass him into the next room. Beyond the white double doors is.. a perfect copy of the corridor (sans sorcerer) and since there is no longer a sorcerer on THIS side as well it is an even more perfect reflection. --Which turns out to be an accurate wording as the pillars, the blue markings, everything is a mirrored reverse.

There are the doors he came through (although the glyph above the door has changed shape on the door's opening) and several doors down the corridor that they passed on the way here. There is also the mural, although this time it's a cracked and close up picture of bubbling magma, the livid red cracks spuming vapor. The heat can almost be felt baking from the moving picture.

Although there is no blue line on the floor, there is one cutting it's way across the ceiling. It ends in front of a door on the far left those symbol is similar to that on the golden piece of metal from the dream.

There are in total four doors not including the way he came in, and more further down the corridor, but this is where the blue line ends.

Angantyr Vespar has posed:
Angantyr looks around...

What a love of doors the builder of this place had, he muses to himself. He could start kicking down doors...but something tells him that might not be the best idea. The blue line is there, on the ceiling leading to the golden piece of metal...He is wondering if the place itself wants to show him something...or if the wizard himself is trying to guide him to see what he wants? Angantyr decides that he'll see what he needs to see here...he can always kick down a wizard's door later if he has to...or find his own answers at the end of the day.

The mural with the magma is concerning...if even art can be dangerous, he wonders what might be behind door number 48593.

Still...he muses to himself, there is no harm in seeing...or if their is, there isn't much he can't do to pull himself out. Angantyr set asside his recent problems...survival was important. Moral quandries can come when he's not in possible uncertain danger. Uncertain death is probably worse than Certain death.

So he follows the blue line and pushes the first door open.

"And I swear to god if this is a key fetch quest I am going to punch me a wizard."

Mystery Box has posed:
Another white room. Room 4223455 in fact. The builder was very fond of white rooms as well. Searing. Blank. Empty.

As Angantyr enters the glyph above the door freezes and then evaporates like so much smoke. There is a stairway leading upwards into another part of the castle. There are several heart shaped symbols, the bottom edges almost jagged, that dot the walls. At the top of the next flight of stairs?

The sound and smell of animals. The rustle of cloth. Footsteps and cartwheels on dirt and stone. The stairs lead up to a small and plain walled hut with shuttered windows and a single door leading to the outside and the creeping sense of the familiar.

Angantyr Vespar has posed:
Oh 4223455...how similar you are to 48593.

Yes, Angantyr and his player are racist against rooms. Especially the pretentious looking ones.

At least it wasn't a good day for a White Wedding.

Angantyr walks, frowning again, "A staircase, that's different." He shurgs, yeah, he was getting sassy with the castle. It's going to get this alot, but he does at least continue on. Slowly at first...but the familar sounds get to him. He starts moving faster, but not quite a break neck run as he finally reaches the small and plain wall...a hut? He pauses for a moment, this can't be...

Angantyr takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever might be beyond the door. It's just a memory...just a memory.

And then he opens the door.

Mystery Box has posed:
If it is a memory, then it is a perfect recollection.

Every house. Every shopkeeper in their stall or merchant wandering the streets. These sounds echo like ghosts in the evening stillness. The clatter of metal on metal. The glowing cherry heat of a blacksmith working over their wares. Calm. Precisely focused sounds.

The sizzle of metal into water and those phantom echoes also die away, giving way to the sound of animals at nightime. Crickets. A faint drone of frogs and whisper of wind. The smell of a storm already past clearing the dust from the air and making everything smell fresh, smell clean and new.

Angantyr's homeland stretches away from the hut in all directions, the hut having been very centrally placed but slightly off the main thoroughfares. In this evening stillness, light is sheltered in each of the houses. Islands of light in the gathering gloom.

What Angantyr can also see is his own house, even if it is in the slightly far distance. Another island of becknoning illumination, the details lost in gloom.

Angantyr Vespar has posed:
Angantyr stares for a moment...

Dreams were all he had for the longest time. Dreams...memories...mostly bad, but some good. Despite his family, he loved his country...maybe if he were born less noble...

He takes a breath, so many memories...so much pain and suffering...after all this time he stood here again. Dream, memory...or whatever...this was...he could remember every detail, experience every sight. He took his helmet off, let the wind run through his hair. His eyes close, just for a moment he wants this to be real...not just a phantom of his troubled nightmares.

Then, he slides the helmet back on. He could not lose himself like this. He rubs his eyes, no, he would not subcome to it. It tears into his heart, his very being...but he has to be strong...he /must/ be strong if this place would ever truly stand again.

He takes a step forward...than another. He walks towards his old home. The place was large as he remembered it. It was a nobles house, and not just any nobles...they were the soldiers and protectors of his home. Every member of the family was expected to become involved in the military in some reguard...

The large grounds were really large by necissity, house Vespar was never one for extensive and fancyness...the ground were large because there were training grounds...archery, swordsmanship, even a smithy. Other nobile familes sent their aspiring chilren to be taught by the Vespar Nobles how to weild a blade, to shoot a bow...

Of course, House Vespar always used this for political power and favors...but even to lesser houses and even to commoners who proved exceptional at a young age...they were to be the sword and shield of thier homeland...

It is, ironic, it's end was brought by a traitor...

He still continues..

Mystery Box has posed:
Although it is dark, all these details can be made out.

The estate stretches ahead and around as he approaches it. Like the other houses, there are lights inside the building and the shadow of movement. There are people inside the house of Vespar. The first flickers of movement outside begin while crossing a courtyard. There is a brilliant, fiery glow in the smithy attached to the property.

A golden white luminescene too bright to be metal or a lantern. Like the sun glinting of water it comes and then is swallowed by the gloom again before returning with every step, every shift of position.

The darkness becomes more palpable in the evening air.

There is something out here with him. Yellow eyes begin to appear from behind trees and underneath archery targets. Slithering from around the corners of buildings. A few. Then a dozen.. then a dozen more. But they are not focused on Angantyr. In fact.. it is as if they cannot even see him.

All eyes are turned towards the village and the light and life in those houses. Towards the house of Vespar, the soldiers and protectors of this realm.

Angantyr Vespar has posed:
Oh no...

"Even here..?" He mutters...the mace comes from his back, and drawn. They might not see him, but he doesn't care. Was it the night he wasn't there for? The night the world collapsed...? No...he wasn't there for that...he was himself lost in the dark paths, the places beween light. Garland had found him there...

Angantyr turns, they couldn't do anything about the heartless if they weren't warned...and despite the fact that he has...issues with his family they need to be warned. His home was at stake...even if this was an illusion, the desire to protect it was strong.

Garland's training had never taken that from him, while he stroked the fire of revenge, the love of his home only intensified.

"To arms!" he shouts, trying to wake the whole place up, "Monsters are in the city! Wake up you slacking guards, now is not the time for idleness!"

Mystery Box has posed:
For a moment there is only silence. That he is alone against this painted backdrop against the heartless that have slunk out of the shadows. And then there is commotion in the House, and they come at his call.

Guards and soldiers in the well heeled precision of long practice scan the darkness and form up. There is a scramble as these soldiers, many of which he knows, scramble to make themselves ready and come out just in time for the first attack.

They are hit with a furious intensity like the crackle of heat lightning. A dozen soldier heartless and a small swarm of shadows lunge at the soldiers to tear into them and are /immediately/ rebuffed. They might as well have thrown themselves onto a wall of spikes. They explode effortlessly in dark clouds of vapor. A brief pause in the conflict.

Although the soldiers heard him, or at least reacted in the defense of the house, their eyes scan past him as if he was not even there. The heartless gather together again, and again their efforts are rebuffed. The moment of surprise passes and orders are barked in clipped and precise tones.

Angantyr Vespar has posed:
Angantyr pauses, they aren't reacting to him...it's like he's not even there?

Angantyr decides to test something, he swings his mace at a heartless, attempting to disemcoperate it before it can get near the defender's line. Could he help..? Or perhaps was he only here to watch? This was...weird to him. A place he was so close to, but yet...was he really still so far away? Reguardless, unless he's stopped by being revealed, he decides to enter the house, he didn't see his father or mother, nor any sign of his bastard of a brother.

Perhaps they are occupied?

Riku has posed:
The mace crashes down on the heartless, causing it to evaporate in a cloud of black vapor from which three heartless spring almost immediately. All three pounce on a defending soldier, managing to knock him down but the others defend the creatures away before they can do any lasting damage and get him back on his feet again.

And his family is indeed occupied. When he enters the stately but pragmatic estate, he can see them through the windows. Each window is like a time lapsed picture throwing the battle forwards in fits and starts. His brother Rellius defending another part of the estate with a handful of guards.

His father and Rellius and their own guards descended into the village, where heartless are battering their way into the houses. A titanic darkside, a vaguely humanoid creature of shadow with a head and face of writhing snakes crushes a house underneath a massive hand.

In each window a different picture and in each window, a battle being gradually lost despite skill and courage and strength of arms. The estate itself is ghostly quiet, the servants having fled to safer places.

The gleaming light from the smithy flashes from one window, a window from which heartless are streaming in a black tide from everywhere but that lone building. A moment later, several heartless smash through a window nearby and there is another twisting, jagged sense of distortion.

They look towards Angantyr and then away from him, hunting the servants still in the house. There is a sound of screaming soon thereafter.

He is inconsequential to this fight. Meaningless.

Useless.

Angantyr has posed:
Angantyrs response to that is vicious and probably meaningless...

However, he will not stand idle, he will not be considered useless...he will /not/ let it happen again if he has something to say about it. He cant tell anymore of its desperation, anger, or something else that drives him...but he can not remain idle. He can not stand idly by and watch everything he knows and holds dear (and Rallius) fall into darkness. They might think him meaningless...

But Angantyr wont bend because they underestimate him.

Angantyr swings, mace tearing through darkness and shadows, they underestimate him at their own peril, he does not stop, he refuses to stop, Angantyr tears through heartless like a man possessed. He does not let wound stop him, he does not let their indecision stop them, he does not let their attacking of other people stop him...

He just fights, and fights...and fights some more. Screaming in rage and despair...he knows nothing he can do will have a meaning, but it doesnt deter him one bit.

Riku has posed:
Vicious? Perhaps.

Meaningless?

Hardly.

Angantyr plows into the heartless. The mace tears shadowflesh and pounds the heartless to vapor. There is a jolt of darkness at each destroyed creature. They claw at him but all of their attacks are in a purely defensive way. They part like oil across a hot surface, skittering away and making them chase them down and destroy them as they break apart and then reform like dark rivers. They climb on the walls and ceiling to get away from him, but not out of any concept of fear.

They do not want him.

He is simply in the way.

And with every strike there are more of them. Every heartless he destroys causes three more to rise up in their place, leaping from the plumes of dark smoke to bolt into corridors and hallways. They find where some of the servants are hiding and the screams begin in earnest.
% His father slams open the doors, retreating with a bare handful of soldiers remaining, one of which falls with a scream as the doors are closed and barricaded with a loud /BANG/ They are bloodied and exhausted, his brother holding himself very carefully against the pain of many wounds.

Blood trickles down the side of his father's face as he turns to look in Angantyr's direction. "What are you doing here?" he questions finally with the air of finding a child sneaking around where he isn't supposed to be. "Nevermind. Thrashing around like a landed fish. You're no help to me anyways." Rellius looks to their father and then to Angantyr.. and says nothing.

Heartless fall on the beleaguered group who are suddenly hard pressed between the door and the rest of the room. There is almost a sea of heartless separating this small group from where Angantyr is laying waste to the heartless and creating that ocean.

Angantyr has posed:
"Good to see you too father," Angantyr spits out, "No loving embrace? No how have you been? No spewing lies from Rellius mouth about how the Arcadian invasion really went?" He shrugs, "Well I guess I can give you a break this time. You know, heartless and all." He says, swinging again, and again and again. "You may not want me, but Im all you got right now. I guess you get used to it..."

Angantyr swings trying to make his way towards his father. He was unstopping, unyielding, he digs into himself, digging into that perfect warrior that Garland tried to mold into him...he needs that strength, the strength to keep stopping no matter what. They may not focus on him but he makes himself a target they cant ignore.

"Light barrier if you can to try and force them back. They arent focusing on me so I can try and destroy them as they come, but this is a losing battle!" Angantyr shouts, "But youre no more going to stop fighting than I am, are you?" He calls back again, "Well, this isnt something either of us can win, so I suggest trying to get SOME people out of here to live and tell our story."

Angantyr continues, "Unless one of us becomes a Princess of Heart or a keyblade wielder in the next five minutes, we aint going to do a thing here...were just flailing at the wind." he continues, he just tries to push himself towards his father."But nice of you to at least scoff at me like the old days, makes me feel right at home."

Riku has posed:
Five minutes is a long time.

But in the meanwhile..

Let there be light.

Angantyr pushes himself towards the group but with every swing, every destruction never seems to thin the hoard. Only strengthen it. The light is scathingly brilliant as a barrier goes up once the heartless have ebbed for a handful of seconds.

The heartless are forced back only several steps before they fall once again on the shields. "Yes, and we'd appreciate it if you'd STOP making things worse, like you always do." Rellius snaps back, slamming back the heartless one foot at a time, fighting them back. "/FOCUS/ Rellius." Their father demands. "..You are hereby nominated. Take the remaining soldiers and go." "I will--" "You will do as you are commanded to do."

Whatever else is supposed to happen here never has the chance to. The entire estate shakes from one of the creatures outside slams a fist into and through the estate wall like a battering ram. The sea of heartless at the same time bears down on the light barrier.

It's over in a matter of seconds, as is the wont of battles. In true combat. One mistake. One miscalculation. One distraction.

The seemingly endless heartless, many of which created by the destruction of their brethren, roll over Angantyr's father and Rellius and their few remaining guards. Leaving nothing behind as the heartless spill outwards through the hole made by the darkside like liquid from a punctured container, spilling out to find new victims

Angantyr has posed:
Angantyr growls...

"You little.." he mutters, but now wasnt the time for petty insults...but it was true...every strike wasnt killing them? But why..? It was painful, but...he sighs, what could he do..?

Then the fist comes down, the building breaks apart as the sea of heartless explode through them. Angantyr screams, trying to reach out for his family...

"N...NO!" he says, but it was...it was far too late. This was a vision of something he couldnt see...Rellius somehow got out, but....his father, his mother...his entire house, the city which he loved...the country that he devoted everything too..

And then heartless stand all around him. He lets the mace fall from his hand...there wasnt anything he could do after all. Fighting darkness with darkness seems...rather stupid in the end isnt it? But what can he do?

Thats all he has. And then...the light he was robbed of to make his family stronger seemed to not aid them any. He falls to a knee...gripping the mace to keep him on his feet.

"Damn it!" he shouts. "Damn...it."

Riku has posed:
Useless.

The word seems to reverberate in the air like a plucked string. The heartless leave him, turning their eyes away. The titan outside descends on the rest of the city without pause. Nothing seems to have done anything but harm. He's left alone in the husk of the estate and there is a ghastly and terrible silence now.

The world is blackened, darkness stealing color and detail and life. Eating in at the corners of this reality towards the middle. Waiting to swallow up city and country and estate and Angantyr as very last. But there is one place that it does not dare go. That flash of light on water shines again through the cracks of the smithy, even more brightly now as if /insistent/. Soon that place will be one of the only bastions remaining of this collapsing dreamscape.

But what does it matter?

It's all gone. Wasted. Spent.

Light and Darkness rendered powerless.

What hope is there for anything?

Angantyr has posed:
The Smithy...

He can see it now...they avoided it before..he didnt notice because he was trying to barrel his way through it...fighting through to his family first.

Which brings up another question...why? Why did he...nevermind. He can reflect later, he can think about his reasonings another time. He has to get to the Smithy, he tears pushes against the Heartless storm if there are any left getting in his way, but with the city as it is...

Useless, the world hangs above his head...but he ignores it. As long as he can fight...as long as he draws breath...he can win. He might have to do something he isnt used to, but he can win...Angantyr lets pure determination drive him forward...he does not back down, he does not run away...he stands against whatever in his way, and tears through it.

Then he breaks through the door to the smithy if it doesnt let him in, and throws the door closed behind him. There has to be something here...something that is keeping the heartless back.

Angantyr just has to find it. If not for his hands...then he will find whose.

Riku has posed:
"It's about damn time."

A kid sits on the anvil that Angantyr would recognize as himself much younger and with just about as much snark as the adult variety. Their boots bump against the side. There is a gleaming.. something laying across their lap. It's a blade certainly but it shifts in an eye defeating melange of light and darkness that shifts even the details of it's form from moment to moment.

The light casts mottled shadows across the inside of the smithy. There are images there, but they are there and gone before they even register as anything but dreamlike shapes and imaginings. "But hey.." a shrug. "You do what you've got to do." There is a mild tone of something, maybe approval, maybe annoyance in the voice.

"Here." Angantyr's younger self (or.. whatever apparition they really are) lifts the blade out of their lap with both hands and throws it towards Angantyr. "You're going to need this. They.. uh. They've caught on." Then Angantyr is alone in the smithy. The blade sends a powerful JOLT of strange energy right up Angantyr's arm towards his heart, and there is a brief but very fierce antipode between light and darkness that resolves itself as the two intertwine together.

And Angantyr can feel the attention of an entire city's worth of heartless turn on him in that same second. They know he's here. And they know he can beat them.

Angantyr has posed:
Angantyr is greeted by...

Younger Angantyr.

"Oh great, good to know Im still as snarky in the past as I am in the present...I cant wait to see what the future me is like." he says, sassing himself. This has officially gone inception style sass. The blade in his hand shifts...there is a familiar feel to it...something...special. Something that calls specifically to him.

"Yeah, I did have to do what I had to do...you know as well as I do despite how much grief we get...this is home. No matter how rough the road is...this place is always in my heart." he frowns.. "Good or ill I guess.." he says, shaking his head. "Not that much is going to be done at thi-" The blade is tossed to him. Angs reflexes are good, he catches it and the antipode of light and darkness catches him off guard as it races through his arm and into his heart...

He jerks back. The weapon changes...the light forged weapon takes on elements of the darkness tied to him. But it does not fully corrupt...both Angantyrs control and the lights natural resistance shapes the blade...it becomes a thing of destruction...light steel and red steel wrap around the blade as it takes its new shape...it is a jagged looking thing, sharp and dangerous..

Something that destroys threats...

Angantyr feels it. Every heartless turns his attention on him.

There is a smirk...is this it? A keyblade? He doesnt understand why him...but there isnt time for that. He can reflect on this when he isnt facing down the horde of heartless. "Well..where do we go now?" he asks the sword, treating it more like a partner than a object. "You wouldnt be here if you didnt have a plan." He guesses..

"Or do I just slaughter heartless non-stop until we get somewhere?" He says. "The heartless have to have been here for something...it cant just be you.." He pauses... "Or is it..?"