O' KEYBEARER

One of the most important relics to KH mythos.

And Sora has quite the challenging history with it’s existence.

+30 year old mun.

RULES.

ABOUT.

HC; Nature of Magic.

The way that magic flocks to Sora's veins finds itself heavily divorced from the nature of textbooks and magical theorem. While to utilize the craft, there's countless ways one's heart can appropriately translate it, the nature of memory, sensation and experience plays a massive part in how he molds it.

How the nature of his Thunder spells would be reflected upon those stormy days spent at the island's, picturing the thunder's ground, the tremor across the land and the fangs of lightning that briefly tore at the space of the skies. How things as small from a pop of static electricity, to avidly remembering days of high energy, hold it's a directed chaos that plays into his advantage.

It can be those days where he'd remember burning his hands upon the ice of a frosted, proud mountaintop, capturing how it'd sear him from the cold. Another time it can fall into the days of remembering the refreshment of ice cream upon his tongue, a more peaceful but not to be underestimated force.

Emotional channeling and firsthand experience help form the 'dial' for each spell class, and the nature of going from the base to -Ga/-Za tiers of magic. A core component is how he always needs to host a framework of memory for his Heart to call upon, and there's countless examples in that reservoir of the Heart even if he does not remember right out the gate. It can fill him with fondness, nostalgic, to firmer emotions that can always play a pivotal edge in it's craft.

Time magic however stays the funniest for Sora to play with. Hast' spells utilize the nature of his impatience, and Stop is similar to letting 'Holding reality's breath' for a fixed amount of time. Slow would play into those days where he freshly awakens, honing in on how his body feels like it has to 'adjust' and just placing sensation as Spellwork onto his foes.

"I'm guessin' it's been more of a rarity since I joined the scene?" Briefly he winces as the idea in itself sounds accusing, the last thing he wished was for her to picture he's blaming himself.

Both of them are well aware of his drive of taking that more Forbidden Path once forewarned. Instead of letting it drive him into a spiral of thought, he'd give a dramatic brush of his face against that towel, hastening that process in a silly way as hints of his face were now visible. What Skuld would find are fiery eyes, ones that were ready to face this together with her.

"Y'mind confirming something for me? One of those black coats back there, they talked about how this place is divorced from the concepts we're typically familiar with. Still in us, but this world is operating differently.."

"Do you have a feel for the Heart of this world yet? No matter how much I tried, the Kingdom Key didn't hold any instinct of directing towards that natural pulse, much less it's Door."

HC; Prices.

You wouldn't believe that the nature of helping to mend holds cost, would you? How blood and flesh are an exchange for warriors, how the enduring nature of human wind, to not let that boundless madness encompass all be the risk for such a dance, no? Fairness never had a part in the cruel beauty of reality, and time and time again, Sora often finds himself by that precipice and it's all due to one singular fact.

Never knowing enough. A way to unleash the princesses from a Keyblade forged by disaster. To ensure that the primordial nothingness itself hadn't banished him to the Dark Realms alone. How, by damning reality in a way that slighted it more than an Old Master's ambitions, it devoured all semblance of him from that maiden cosmos.

It comes to a point. Sora has carried on the guilt that involves worrying others, understanding the raw weight of what selfishness even for the best possible outcome can bring. It aches. To know that tears spill in his name, that roars against the realm want to stand by his side, through those very connections does the King of Hearts feel that agony. Never does he allow himself the chance to actually forget those authentic, thorned threads and how they bite into him with the same intensity.

So where does that leave him?

A lesson learned, cruel and daunting. How triumph is never truly enough. If he intends to become a bastion that rewrites the grim ending of heroes, selfishness of an all devouring scale would be that requirement. Let victory be the totality, let their ways chart the path forward, make the Universe understand and not merely tread the routes that null the most ill effects. Sacrifice has often been a language of love, and never in the case for the lack of joy of his own life, but it comes from a weariness of letting disaster or circumstance always have some predetermined way.

HC; Re:Mold.

Why exactly do the Heartless fear the keyblade? How it disconnects from their mindless immortality? Is it a force of primordial power that burns at their very definition? Somehow, that question thrums within his mind now and then, a back of the skull idea that leaves him with more questions than answers.

Fear in the form of the Heartless comes with unparalleled aggression. Time and time again, he's also fell into the wicked plots of reaping the hearts for sinister sources, even under the name of protection. Sora doesn't doubt that there's eons of wondrous, dangerous elements about the sacred weapon settled in his grasp. Just as the fabled Power of Waking could shatter the boundary between time and space in its entirety, just what else could the union of Heart and Key be capable of?

An idea strikes, one that nestles deep and is elevated as his personal art within his days in Quadratum. Build. Scrap. (Creation. Destruction.) It worked in a way beyond the concepts of mana, an offshoot but vast power of the Heart. The potential instead drinks from the very birthday of all hailing from Kingdom Hearts, the ability to become the celestial architect, similar to the All Beginning and All End.

Master giving Form to the Formless. Similar to how the Darkness through the eons had considered the Heart both an intermediary and a nexus for their plans, the partnered blade of all Keyblade wielders can be used in ways never before conceived (or potentially snuffed out, forgotten), to mold the Great Darkness of 13 into a tangible force through the mastery of making the Keyblade itself their vessel. Devour the dark will, the hellish intentions, coalesce and temper it forcefully into a state where they'll have no choice but to interact but expelling it.

Those golden galaxies of her eyes were here before him once again. The way they danced akin to angels in flight, how the nature of romanticism and a cosmic threshold all settled in the beauty that matched her grit. A soft huff eases from him once her fingers tapped upon his face, sweeping it over with a language only they'll ever know. The tenderness of such a gesture would find the sharper edge it's taken, the hints of fresh stubble as well.

"Nothing will ever keep us fully apart."

It'd only take a second for the sentiment to be returned, the way his arms reached to carefully maneuver around her frame, drawing her into the sanctity of a kingdom that always held Skuld's name. Even as the ticklish edge of her raven bangs meshed with his, amidst his own closed eyes, it was impossible to hide that infectious smile that wanted to be etched into this moment.

Those arms squeezed her fondly with emotion that ached to reach her physically, that long since star lined their dreams and served as a bastion of hope for this future they've made. "I always felt you, y'know? Your wishes.. your feelings, it made me feel unstoppable to the day I could just be here again, in your arms.." The amount of relief tucked in Sora made him lean against her, needing a bit of that support.

"Where I want to belong."

...This.

This isn't good. Isn't it?

Experience has been an apt teacher and he knows when the stares are on that precipice of making a decision. Even now their murmurs after such altercation, how it was less on the threat and more on its queller made him stiffen up like a damn pine tree! (At the very least he has the spiky hair to match such a description.)

"Haha. Take it that your usage of swords are a little more old fashioned?" Somehow it's his confidence that gets a curious sway from the onlookers. Some glanced on, others continued the touch screen clickers to continue letting the Kingdom Key drown in this new found glory.

Sora on the other hand felt like this was going to reverberate some unknown repercussion. So! Why be concerned if it'll just be a new matter to handle in time? Instead he'd give the key a proud, effortlessly flick, causing some impressed 'oohs' and others to jolt back a step. It felt as if it was blurred to fan speeds before it was propped with a gentle tap upon his shoulder. First order of business to make this normal? Walk off like you didn't just prevent a bus full of folks from becoming Heartless chow.

"The way I see it. Life's a door with how many mysteries it holds, so isn't a key the most natural thing to handle that?"

"Unlock a new way for yourself, no matter the bramble or the tricky thorns."

Ha. Nailed it.

Why does it feel like that comes from a place of pain? A desire gnaws at his mind to actually ask, to allow the sullen warrior of a fallen nation to find a moment to express. Would that expression however come at the price of sensations they rather lay buried? Sora couldn't deny that feeling such a weight permeate, intentionally or not prompted a thoughtful edge to his actions. The last thing he wanted was to let this mood, a rare and less somber note to find itself rippling away.

A slow nod recognizes Dainsleif wisdom, his support, the quieter return of such sentiment being the keybearer's repositioning. He'd steady seamlessly upon the cliff side where they studied a remote region of Teyvat's beautiful, drinking in the view made not only from the False Sky, but the countless memories that imbued this luster that made it as indistinguishable from space itself.

"Some old teachers told me once upon a time, that this is a price of living, the price of picking up a weapon-- Sounds pretty gruff beginning it like that, huh?" He adds in with a peal of laughter. Nonetheless, it didn't stop the levity from burgeoning free from the initial shyness of speaking up. "They were martial masters on my home, Destiny Islands. They've also seemed either sad or too deep in thought, firm in teaching or a touch whimsical only when a bottle or certain memories come to light."

"And I imagine.. Those hardships were the reason why. I've felt a touch of that firsthand." He admits before a sigh is ushered from his lungs. There's so much that Sora aches to share them once he gets the chance. Circumstance however has different demands, and the result of his essence of choice, his will, led to consequences that he found absolutely worth the risk.

"Let's carry our hardships together, Dain." He ultimately decides before turning a fiery, starry lit gaze towards the blonde.

"You have my word. I'll make sure you see that I have a good life to my name. ..Just don't neglect taking care of yourself either, okay? We need to be in this together."

(Luxord)

( @gambledfate )

Important?

Initially an impulse knitted in a more negative frame wanted to pose an argument to that. Part of him despises how that was so readied despite how far he's come. Yet, wasn't it also a sense of growth that prevented him from denying the scale of his own importance? Any conflict within the keybearer's eyes simmers. "Life just has a way of being full of surprises, huh? But whatever that importance means for you, may as well be something more tricky for me."

The gambler of fate, someone who etches down cosmic rules and sets them into the framework of games where the House normally holds a home court advantage. Sora isn't ignorant to the peril that comes with letting his fate become tested upon unfair scales, yet shouldn't faith in the self be a touch higher? After all there were countless eyes and hopeful smiles that beamed at his arrival, that cheered and roared for his ascent. It's time he started making good on how far they've risked it all for him too.

A natural rule breaker, the Keyblade will always be a vigil ally on the offchance there's a sinister shadow aiming to simply pull him down under. "I have my reservations on if you're in a good enough mood to iterate, but no doubt there's plans going on even well beyond the Organization's hand, right?" His voice holds a steely sense of belief. Ever since becoming a soul that treads upon the forbidden path, a new side of the Islander has been unveiled, an accumulation of that very grit that's left him a blinding star before the nefarious plans set upon the cosmos.

Even now that's why his smile doesn't deny the naturally earned arrogance.

"The real question is my importance on the type of game aching to be played here. We've done this song and dance before, you know I won't deny a seat at this table."

King of Hearts.