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objects in mirror are closer than they appear.; -- ienzo!
Topic Started: February 23, 2011, 9:37 pm (273 Views)
Ienzo
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"...there is no such thing as faith, or trust, or pixie dust..."
"it comes from the heart's connections with the data, hinting towards the story theme,                                                                           
'can a heart be born in an existence made of data?'"
                                                                                                                                       -- tetsuya nomura




you;
name; Ive got a lot of names, but peeps around the roleplay section of the Internet will know me best as Breloom.
contact information; AIM is giratinium, email is breloomasaurus@gmail.com
other characters; Lexaeus, Riku, Squall, Shii, Austria.

basics;
name; Ienzo. Nobody is quite sure whether the people of Radiant Garden have surnames.
age; Eight, at the time of writing. Just don't expect him to act like it.
occupation; Well, previously he had been an apprentice of Ansem the Wise. But now, in a situation and a world so unlike his own, he's once again been reduced to a wandering little boy.
race; Caucasian human.

in depth;
appearance; Ienzo... Ienzo, Ienzo, Ienzo.

Where to begin on this kid?

Well, for one thing, he's short. Very short. Even for an eight-year-old boy, he is still, er, vertically challenged; this trait would carry on into his adult Nobody form. He's also thinner than can really be considered healthy, but do not mistake this for any sort of eating disorder, please. Thanks. Many years of standing around in cold basements doing experiments has pretty much sucked all color from his skin, so he's also very pale. Or, in other words, a classic Creepy Child. His hair hovers somewhere between blue and gray in color, going closer to gray. It falls mostly in clumps, making a spiky mess down to around the nape of his neck, except for a large mass of it falling over one half of his face and growing down to his chin. Even if he wanted to change his hairstyle, it would probably be too grown in to this formation to really accept any other style without several tons of hair gel, which would not please Ienzo at all. His face is a strange combination of narrow and rounded, and his single visible eye has already mastered the art of looking really freaky, from thoughtful stares to full on Death Glares. (Its also bright blue in color.)

As far as clothing can be concerned, most of his wardrobe is several sizes too large for him, and frankly he wouldn't feel very comfortable in much else. The first thing you notice is, of course, his near-trademark lab coat -- and yes, it necessitates its own paragraph, because Ienzo is not Ienzo without his lab coat. It's big, very big, and it hangs off of him in a very awkward (but strangely adorable) way. Note that it can operate somewhat like a duster since it was obviously meant to be worn by someone taller than he, and the sleeves have been rolled up several times. His several pockets are all very large as well, and one of them is rumored to be a Hammerspace Pocket.

Underneath is a black shirt with white edges that acts very much like the coat, looking like it had been stretched already, and therefore hangs low on him. His jeans are following the same vein, obviously very baggy and held up only by a belt. The shoes are merely black and white sneakers. Of course, Ienzo is dressed very differently than the other Apprentices of Ansem -- they actually have uniforms, with zippered coats and everything, while Ienzo is simply wearing what they could scrap together with what they had on hand.

He really doesn't mind.
picture; D'AWWW.
personality; The first thing you notice about Ienzo is that he's not normal. At all.

For one thing, he's very intelligent -- and not just for someone his age -- with not only information but understanding of the world as well. He's all thought and almost no speech, and to the untrained eye can seem merely to be an empathetic automaton, a passing oddity which warrants no introduction and asks for none as well. However, while others are brushing him off, his piercing gaze is busy analyzing anything they do, right down to the subconscious movements in their faces when they're telling a lie. He sees people mostly as an analysis to make sense of, and can usually find all the right words to describe them and their feelings -- but when it comes to himself and his own emotions, Ienzo inevitably falls short.

It is his tendency to draw attention away from himself, or even not make himself present in the first place. When walking with someone else he will always slip behind them and fall into step, hovering along like a shadow and only looking up when something absolutely necessitates it. Ienzo is highly perceptive of everything around him, and his brain is constantly ticking away to make sure he's made sense of it.

For the most part, he is content minding his own business (which is typically reading, his only hobby other than SCIENCE). He second-guesses himself often, and it is not uncommon for sentences to die halfway out of his mouth. When he does speak, it is generally in a low whisper, with many more ellipses than absolutely necessary. When sleeping or in a particularly bad emotional wreck (don't expect the latter to happen very often, fair warning), he curls into a strange little variant of the fetal position known only as an Ienzo-ball.
history;
Her last words were: "Protect the boy."

His last words were: "No."

The two had been fighting like animals, just like everyone else. One of them was lunging and swinging like he had no reservations for bringing his opponent to her knees - and he didn't. The other was working just as hard, wielding her blade just as well, but she looked like she had been taking each attack just as much in the soul as in the body - and she was. Up until then, there had been no words passed between them; it was clear to the woman that her opponent was lost in battle-madness, and the man really didn't care.

That battle didn't last long.

Now she watched with flickering energy at his boots grinding into the dirt, kicking it into her face while she laid stomach-down on the ground. It suddenly occurred to her that Reynard -- her husband -- was well and truly dead.

In his place was something... something evil.

The creature which had once been Reynard held out his Keyblade, proved her point, and smiled like the maniac he wasn't.

There was the telltale flash of light that signified a Keyblade had been recalled, and then the portal closed. All that was left of the catastrophic battle and its equally catastrophic ending, was a woman and a sword. The ethereal blade -- Solemnus -- was still lying in her hand, and hilariously it was this weapon she was talking to -- not her husband. He was long gone.

Solemnus understood entirely what its master was saying, and had it been in possession of a true brain, it would have noted mentally that she was just in time. The Keyblade remained in her grip for the rest of her life, and after that had expired, it left her slacking hand. As a manipulator of Time magic, it knew precisely what was to become of this dreadful battleground, and this blade was not one that was going to be stuck into the ground. It also saw what was to happen to its new charge -- and while changing history as a whole would be catastrophic, there was still a way.

From her cooling hand came a flash of light, and Solemnus left its master to follow orders.

The passing of the Keyblade had not been done formally, so whether its aid would have any effect was under debate, but the order was entirely the same: protect the boy. And by Kingdom Hearts itself, it was going to protect the boy.



The Keyblade War was dead and gone. Charlene's body was found with no Keyblade to show for it, but she had obviously been killed by a horrific Shotlock, so a handy replica was made and jabbed into the ground instead. Who killed her was unknown... but perhaps that knowledge was better kept unspoken, as the creature which had once been her husband would go on to do some equally terrible things, and eventually met his end via a loud and very painful dark explosion. His Keyblade, ironically, was never found.

Their part in this story, naturally, had come to an end. The main focus was someone similar yet quite different, and how he successfully became a severed soul.

Solemnus had known precisely who ‘he' was -- their son, the spawn of two Keyblade Wielders and yet never to have one of his own. These sorts of things were very rarely inherited by genes, and a parent would typically give their child the power by passing it down... of course, there were just a few things getting in the way of that ideal. The mother was dead, the father had left to follow another not-entirely-desirable path, the son had somehow gotten hold of his parents' death and run off before authorities could find an appropriate place for him.

Under normal circumstances, Ienzo was screwed.

‘Normal circumstances', however, did not cover the possibility of being discovered by a rich old scientist and his merry group of apprentices. Hilariously, this was precisely what happened.

Now, Ienzo didn't look very exceptional. Save for the unusually-colored and very fluffy hair that seemed perpetually intent of blocking half of his face, he looked for all the world to be a normal -- if stoic -- little boy. He is, in fact, anything but. It soon became apparent to Ansem and company that sitting in the corner while the others worked was simply not going to fly.

As Ienzo figured, he was intelligent enough to do something other than play china doll -- and he was, oh, he was -- and, somewhere deep within the boy's soul, he found the vast reserves of annoyance that every child throughout history has used to his advantage. This would eventually turn into the less advanced half of Ienzo -- the young one, the correct one, naïve and adorable and capable of missing the point completely.

The considerably older apprentices made a valiant attempt at raising the boy. However, considering that none of them had ever really raised a child on their own time, the results were... mixed.

Perhaps the young Ienzo just didn't feel that he was being treated like an equal. To be fair, in the beginning, he really wasn't being treated like an equal -- he was being treated like what he actually was, a quiet little orphan who should still be under the impression that the world is composed entirely of butterflies and rainbows. Ienzo was having none of that. After vocalizing his concerns, a rather awkward period began in which nobody was really quite sure what to make of him.

The first one to heed his words was the resident head scientist, Even. He began complying to Ienzo's requests to enter his area of the lab while he worked, and those short times set the boy's role within the group as scientist (or scientist's assistant, initially) into stone.

On the rare occasions when he wasn't working with Even or stalking various tomes in Ansem's extensive library, Ienzo was subject to everyone else's attempts, in their own little ways, to come to grips with the fact that the latest member of their group had never seen the light of middle school. Most of the formal tuition was handled by Ansem, but the others did small things on their own time: the guards covered self-defense and other physical tactics (Ienzo wasn't really paying attention to these), and Braig worked with foreign languages (most of the material was the art of using international swear words).

That last one didn't last very long.

Despite his many demands to be treated like an adult, Ienzo was obviously still a child, and though he told himself many times to drop stigmas on the others they eventually did surface as a large part of his personality.

First and foremost was Ansem, the ‘nice grandma' of his little parallel world; he was the only one who still treated Ienzo like a boy, but he managed to do it in a way that didn't insult the kid -- and actually made him feel a little happy about it.

Next in line was Even; following Ansem's metaphor, he was the mean grandma, who cared about him but only under a thick and rather repulsive crust. Despite the distinct lack of a particularly warm relationship, like the one he shared with Ansem, Ienzo still managed to look up to Even greatly -- even to the point of minor idolization.

And finally, oh finally, we came to Aeleus. This bear of a man seemed to have a thing for younger kids -- or at least people who gave off the impression of younger kids -- and by the time Ienzo came into being as apprentice number five, Aeleus seemed to have developed a full-on case of Papa Wolf Syndrome. As if returning the sentiments, Ienzo soon found himself looking at Aeleus as a parental figure -- a father sort of thing, following once again the Ansem metaphor.

Slowly but surely it got easier, everyone warmed up to the newcomer, and the world tasted good.



As was to be expected, with the status title ‘apprentice of Ansem' came a set of responsibilities, among them the requirement to actually do sciencey-type stuff in a dark room far, far past one's bedtime. Despite constant chidings that oh, as adults their bodies were quite finished developing and didn't need a full eight hours -- a far cry from a little kid who hadn't even reached puberty. At this point the annoyance and stubbornness popped up again, and the bags under Ienzo's eyes grew just as deep as the rest of them.

It was at this point that Solemnus -- remember that thing? -- grew concerned. Its physical form, in that world, was nowhere to be found; it had been told to watch, and it felt that doing so invisibly was the best course of action. It foresaw someone truly dreadful coming in future, and Solemnus -- not being the type of otherworldly semiconscience to wait around for danger to come -- made preparations immediately.

And it was just in time, too.

Picture this. Ienzo was skulking around the library as he typically is, reading a tome approximately the size of his head. Also typical. Braig had left a few days ago for destinations unknown, and this morning he had come back to take Ansem and Dilan along with him. That left Aeleus, Even, and himself, together, in the dark.

"...Ienzo? Ienzo! There you are, foolish boy..."

The silver-haired kid looked up from his book, sufficiently startled. Sure enough, lurking right in front of him was Even in his standard attire, looking quite miffed with the whole wide world. (Technically, the ‘spoken to as equal' rule from before wasn't entirely true; when he was particularly irritated -- which was often -- he tended to refer to Ienzo as either an idiot or a child. Ienzo had long since learned not to question him in this state.)

He got up immediately, not making a move to say anything.

Even cleared his throat for the speech that would surely ensue and begun to talk. "You're -- along with the rest of us -- wanted outside. Braig has something to show us."

This speech was shorter than Ienzo had thought it would be, but he wasn't complaining. Even didn't wait for this information to register in his mind, and it didn't need to. Ienzo didn't even have time to nod before Even deemed this too much time wasted, setting off at no less than a trot, and even with the extra time -- Ienzo knew this was going to happen -- he still had to turn around and scramble to keep up with him.

The young apprentice wasn't going to ask about what Braig had planned, but he didn't exactly get time to. For directly in the middle of a step, the world... stopped. Froze, even. And just to make it that much stranger, the colors began to run into one another and fade into a very ugly shade of brown. It soon got to the point where he couldn't even see Even's bright white coat amidst the muck.

Unsterstandably, Ienzo was very panicked by this, but any attempts to move every body part but his eyes ended in failure.

So Ienzo waited. As he stood there, suspended and completely nonplussed, the brown began to lighten until the world was composed entirely of soft white light. By this point Ienzo had given up any hope of understanding the situation and now only wanted to escape it with his life, so he stood there with one foot hovered over the floor, waiting for this trippy mind game to end so he could get on with his life... after all, he needed to see Braig, didn't he? The man did tend to get huffy when people didn't treat him with—

Ienzo fell on his face.

Despite himself, he let off a loud squeak, and the young apprentice attempted to pick himself up again. He found that he had regained full use of his limbs, and upon realizing this immediately tried to walk forward. He knew he was moving, he could see that he was moving, but the whiteness didn't. It seemed to trail on forever in front, behind, and off on either side, a vast expanse which was most definitely not the Radiant Garden.

When this dawned on Ienzo, he stopped moving, and began to look around. Perhaps there was some way out of here? It seemed to be all the same, really, just a soft glowy expanse of...

...white...

Ienzo did a double-take, letting off another one of those stupid little gasps as he did so. Standing directly where he had been before was... well... himself, in the same position he had been before, his single visible eye focused straight ahead at the place where Even should have been.

Forget trippy, this was just plain psycho.

Ienzo ran up to his second body, peering curiously at it. Upon prodding, it seemed solid as a rock -- that is, where the skin normally would have bent to Ienzo's finger, it remained unmovable and quite literally like a rock.

Well... this was strange, and Ienzo didn't like it.

"Um," he said uncertainly, looking quite displeased. Even going this far was beyond most; Ienzo had to admit that he didn't talk an awful lot at all, save for the occasional response to a question or a scientific observation. Everyone had known what he meant without even saying a word (though even then, it took a rather long period of trials and tribulations before the code stuck), and exclamations of surprise... well, they were practically unheard of. He was just getting to working this nonsense out in his head when another not-entirely-pleasant situation made itself clear: the sensation of falling very, very fast.

His other body didn't move at all, but suddenly Ienzo was sent plummeting into the pure white depths, and it went without saying that by this point he was quite pissed off.

He suddenly became aware of something that was not white hovering in the immediate area, and snatched onto it without a second thought. Just from seeing the blur it seemed to Ienzo that he would be too late, that he would have missed it, that he was going to keep falling and falling and falling in this twisted universe and he would just die of starvation or suffocation or something stupid like—

Oh hey, he got it.

Upon further inspection, he appeared to have grabbed onto the blade of some kind of purple-tinted sword, which hilariously didn't seem to be very pointy. The blade wasn't just a straight piece of metal like any normal sword, oh no -- right next to where Ienzo's hand was now holding on to, there was a metal ring composing the end of the sword, with an almost anchor-shaped thing sticking from it at a ninety-degree angle to the rest of the blade. Following down to the hilt there was another metal ring, this one with six spokes poking out of it -- the formation reminded Ienzo of a gear.

And at the end was a keychain.

Suddenly it occurred to Ienzo just what on Earth he was holding on to, and the shock it sent darn near made him lose his grip.

This was... a Keyblade.

He was holding... on to... a Keyblade.

...A Keyblade.

Keyblade.

Whoa.

Ienzo's mind had long since reached and cracked open its logical breaking point, and he was still in survival mode, but this... a Keyblade... floating... coincidentially... in his hand... was just enough to make him stop and stare for a long, long time.

He didn't even react when the thing began to move. He just hung there, gawking, while his clothes flapped in the wind created by the Keyblade's path through the white. His hand now appeared to be latched to the blade, as all attempts to remove even a finger (while holding on with the other hand, of course) were doomed to fail. Looking around spawned still more white, and eventually Ienzo's well-past-frazzled mind just threw in the towel and began to shut down.

Latched on to the tip of the Keyblade by some miraculous force, the boy's eyes began to droop.



Solemnus had known precisely what he was supposed to be doing, and so far, it was going fantastically and surprisingly well. Being a Keyblade specializing in time-based magic, it had at least minor temporal powers that were reined in only by the will of the Keyblade wielder... but since its Keyblade Wielder was, well, dead, Solemnus was doing the next best thing and following her dying orders.

Now, he couldn't change the past. Taking Ienzo out of this time period, make everyone forget he existed, and dropping him somewhere else, without ripping the space-time continuum to ribbons? Nope, he couldn't do that. As far as time was concerned, there had to be an Ienzo back in there; if he or anyone else was taken out without the proper patching up, the world would fall into some hellish chaos. Solemnus wasn't after that.

But still, he needed to have a life that wouldn't eventually end in... that. It was only right.

So a plan had been devised on the spur of the moment: if he couldn't take him directly out of the continuum, for obvious reasons, then he could at least get another chance. And so, with a strange little power, Solemnus brought time to a halt -- and everything else to a halt with it. After it had done that, a funny little event occurred which clearly didn't foreshadow anything at all: Ienzo was split in two. Two identical bodies with identical minds and identical mannerisms.

The semi-sentient Keyblade was aware of the tax that a severed soul put on each of its parts; energetically, each one would be weaker, and the Ienzo that was remaining in the past would now surely be doomed to be consumed by a practitioner of the dark. But even if one half was doomed, Solemnus had been told to protect him -- to make him live, no matter the cost. After it had done that, its existence here would be finished; there wouldn't even be enough power left in it to keep the metal parts together.

But perhaps, Solemnus thought, it needed to die as well.



Waking up on one's feet was not a pleasant experience. There was always that stumbly bit near the beginning, where you get the feeling that you're going to fall but are so jolted by that point that you don't -- and then the catastrophe of explaining to everyone else. Fortunately, Ienzo didn't need to deal with the second half (considering he was totally alone when he woke up), but really, that would have been the least of his worries.

The young scientist took the opportunity to reflect on what had just happened; doing that, however, he felt a very unpleasant pang in his throat, and immediately switched his mind to something else. No matter what happened, he was not going to do it... he was not going to cry...

Ienzo gulped. Looking around, he appeared to be in a giant crater, standing directly in the center. There were two smaller ones positioned at various places in front of him. Suddenly Ienzo became aware of a weight in his hand, and he looked down to discover the Keyblade from before in his hand. But something was wrong... it was no longer the deep purple color it had been before, and now looked totally grayscale, like normal steel. It had looked warm and ethereal then, but now it looked expired... dead.

He stood there, looking down at it, and as he did something began to fall from the tip.

It appeared to be some sort of dust, and right before Ienzo's eyes more and more fell from the Keyblade. Soon it became apparent that one of the sides of the anchor was slowly deteriorating, and the rate increased until the dust was eating its way up the shaft of the blade. With a final dusty poof, the Keyblade disappeared into a cloud of dust which was divided evenly into a mound on the rocky ground and coated evenly over the top half of Ienzo's body.

Ienzo smeared the charcoal-colored dust off of his eyes and nose, and shook it out of his hair. This would have to do for now, even if he still looked half covered in soot. It was important that he got an idea of where he was.

He looked around -- completely alone, as he had been -- and turned towards the mound on the floor. First thing's first, after all. Getting onto one knee, he reached into one of his lab coat's miraculously deep pockets and pulled out a test tube, held in place with a stopper. He expertly removed the cork-made shape and took a swipe of the substance, catching a good amount of it in the tube. He didn't hesitate to replace the stopper and stand up again, dusting the dirt off of his knee.

Almost on cue, the wind blew then, and the particles scattered into nothing.

Slowly, uncertainly, Ienzo held up his test tube to the light; it seemed to be regular old dust, not very distinguishable from any other dark dirt-like substance. But Ienzo -- and Ienzo alone, he thought -- knew that it was far more than that... in light of this believed development, Ienzo went ahead and named the substance right then and there.

"Keyblade Dust."

It wasn't very original, granted, but he was a scientist, and scientists are rarely very original people. He made a mental note to see if he could find anyone who knew something about this Keyblade Dust... if he got out of this place alive, of course.

His breath grew shaky again, and he bit his lower lip, hard; it was more a matter of pride than anything else, this refusal to show tears, but Ienzo had managed to stick to it long enough that he was hopefully able to hold down the waves of emotion. Nobody was around to see him, but even so, he felt that he still shouldn't... it wouldn't be right to cry. Scientists never cried.

Ienzo -- or, at least, the sanctified future copy of Ienzo -- slipped the Keyblade Dust into his pocket and began to walk.



A million miles away, a butterfly flapped its wings; back thirteen years and a hundred days, the beginning of the end was born.

"...Ienzo? Ienzo! What's wrong with you?"

"...What?"

Blinking, startled, the original and the glorious snapped back into his present day.

"You just stopped and began to daydream, boy. We have no time for this!"

"Oh... I'm sorry..." With that, Ienzo began to run after his mentor again, headed for the front lawns of the castle and, ultimately, the vehicle of his doom.



A Summary for the Hopelessly Lost: Ienzo's mother and father were both Keyblade Wielders. His mother died in the Keyblade War at the hands of his father, who was promptly eaten up by darkness and would die a grunt's death. Meanwhile, Solemnus -- his mother's Keyblade -- was given a dying order to fulfill by its master, and was also granted the sentience to possess free will -- but not enough to give it true conscience. Time skip to after Ienzo had grown to the age of nine, where Solemnus felt that the end was nigh and decided to utilize his plan: separate Ienzo into two identical beings by stopping time and placing each one in slightly different timeframes (just a fraction of a second, really, not even noticeable), creating two identical copies in a world where time had otherwise stopped. Solemnus left one Ienzo as it was, to resume life as scheduled, and took the other Ienzo to the future, where he would hopefully have some chance at a life that had been denied him twice before. Of course, considering where he dropped -- smack in the middle of the plot -- it wasn't exactly right. Solemnus, appearing in his hand after he landed, had fulfilled its purpose, and having used the last of its stored-up energy to split and teleport Ienzo, it couldn't even hold a physical form. Ienzo collected a sample of its remains, leaving the rest to scatter among its bretheren.
finishing up;roleplay sample; The landscape here was a constant. It was always bleak and rocky, the only thing breaking the monotony being an occasional discarded Keyblade. (Why someone would just toss a valuable object like a Keyblade into the ground was beyond the boy's comprehension, but...) The Keyblade Dust he hadn't contained in his test tube was long gone, riding on a non-existent wind off somewhere. At least the dust couldn't get tired -- all it had to do was just sit back and let the winds carry it places. Pieces of dust did that.

Unforunately, Ienzos didn't.

Right now, the fluffy-haired boy was walking, just as he had been doing for the past few hours, and the toll it was taking on him was noticeable. His usual shuffling footsteps had turned even more sluggish than usual, his throat was dry and his stomach empty... so yes, Ienzo looked even more pitiful and run-down than usual. He had tried to just sit where he was, but that hadn't worked too well either, and there was no outcrop or anything that he could...

Oh. Hey. Wait.

The boy suddenly snapped to attention, despite the various aches and pains he was experiencing. At least he could take off the constant blast of the sun. With his shuffle graduated to a standard walk, Ienzo began to move a little faster, and he successfully found himself under the large shadow of a similarly-sized cliff. It seemed pretty stable, and besides, if the thing had lasted in this environment this long, surely it wouldn't mind a little kid huddling in it until...

...until...

Ienzo decided to change the subject.

Reaching in to the pocket of the horrendously oversized white lab coat that served as most of his protection (the black clothes underneath wouldn't be worth taking off the extra layer), he brought out the small test tube full of Keyblade Dust. Ienzo wasn't exactly sure what had happened to him to take him all the way from Radiant Garden to this strange and lifeless place, but whatever had happened, he had undergone an extremely trippy dream sequence (was it a dream?) which involved a strangely familiar Keyblade. He had sensed another presence there, too, though he couldn't pick it up...

Ienzo didn't dare take the Keyblade Dust out of its container -- if he did, another wind could pick up and carry that off as well, and then what would he have? -- but he could most certainly remove it carefully from his pocket. And so he sat there under the somewhat more forgiving shadow of the rocks, staring at a beaker of dust. This dust had once been a Keyblade... it had seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn't put his finger on it then, and he couldn't now. But it had taken him somewhere strange and alien. Ienzo wasn't quite sure if Keyblades were sentient beings, but he most certainly hadn't initiated that strange ‘dream' himself; there wasn't any Keyblade anywhere near the castle except for the three people that the others had told him about (one of which he had met), and they had all gone far before... this.


In a frail attempt to make sense of the situation, Ienzo picked his head up and looked around again, but the surrounding area was exactly the same as it had been earlier. Nothing had changed. No one was here. No possibility of...

...of...

Mentally bashing his head against a wall, Ienzo changed the subject again.
member title; Err...
anything else; Fun fact: As of late, Ienzo has begun to leave his coat unbuttoned. Possibly because he's finally realized that there's no real need for a lab coat outside the unholy tundra of Even's lab, but doesn't want to part with it just yet. (Or, well, ever.)
someone told me, "love will all save us"
well, how can that be? look what love gave us--
a world full of killing and bloodspilling
that world never came...
+ quote! + top!
 
Sora
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a hero's not afraid to give his life
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I don't think I need to say more.
+ quote! + top!
 
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