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 Tyro's Origin Story: Kingdom Hearts: Starting Embers: Chapter One

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Posts : 1029
Join date : 2010-04-01
Age : 25
Location : Earth, Milkyway

PostSubject: Tyro's Origin Story: Kingdom Hearts: Starting Embers: Chapter One   Fri Sep 17, 2010 5:34 pm

Way back when I started roleplaying, Kingdom Hearts -one and two- had a profound effect on my imagination. It still does. Inspired by this massive epic I inexplicably love, I started piecing the character Tyro together with 'I could do better than Sora' in my head. I also thought that an origin story was needed to explain his Kingdom Hearts origins, how he became what he is and why he is the way he is. I started writing then got side tracked. I think I ought to start again, reworking what I had. So - and please tell me what you think - this is Tyro's place in the Kingdom Hearts universe.

Kingdom Hearts: Starting Embers - Chapter One (Work In Progress)

The universe works on the principle that you can't get anything for nothing. Its the driving force of this tale. A tale that happened in the background. Its only just been discovered that it exists and uncovers the story of another group that worked to demolish Organisation XII from it's rotten, festering foundations by stopping its most desperate....well, I feel I can't call them 'souls'.

Kieran pushed open the door to the shop, moving into the space. The scruffy child was eyed by the only other inhabitant. He saw the black T-shirt that was worn over a white T-shirt. Around the neck and the waist of the shirt was a black band sown in. His hands had been shoved in his jean's pockets. His trainers made the floorboards creak with slow, deep tones.
"Yeah?" he was asked by the store's owner. It was a blonde with a strange frizz for hair. His large, flat nose and low eye brows made the man in the T-shirt and green apron seem more like a fighter than a store clerk.
"I want a..." Kieran started waving his hand around his neck area while he caught up with the word that alluded him at this moment. Finally it came. "pendent."
"Oh yeah?" Came the grunted reply.
"Well, yeah. I saw Sarah Halent with one. They looked cool. She's got one with a picture of her dog inside." He tried a smile in the company of the frizzy troll's disapproving glare. He nodded to a door in green next to the work surface that the shop owner leant on. It matched the colours of the doors Kieran had just entered through. A few swords of huge proportions hung on the wall behind the counter. Kieran attempted to avoid the glare as he disappeared into the other room.

This room was a contrast from the bright one he'd just walked from. It was lit only by the yellow street light outside as it came through the pristine window. They liked it clean in here. Clean and dark though?
"Helloo?" Kieran said as he trod through the mess of wires and cables that snaked across the floor. "Hello." He seemed to kick something. It gave a small squeak, making him look down.
"Oh Sorry!" He said to the little furry face that stared back up at him. The little black beads of the moogle didn't seem to be too hut that he'd been kicked.
"You don't look where your going much, do ya, Kupo?" It said in its little voice, making a little sneer. "You managed to get over the wires OK though, Kupo."
"Used to it. I'm here for a pendent." The moogle's eyes widened.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, kupo. I'll go get the connections." it said. The little creature scuttled away into the darkness, apparently to find what Kieran assumed to be samples. To pass the few minuets that would take, he stared at the displays on the wall. The pendants shone with the only lights in the room. They glittered spectacularly.

He'd read about this. It was a process similar to making a key chain, which could go on a Keyblade. He couldn't see if they did affect the legendary weapon. They were in stupidly short supply. They were all the rage now. Everyone wanted to be like the hero of the moment. Even if he did dress in a strange way. Kieran might not have any idea about fashion but he felt that his appearance was fine compared with the bizarre description he kept getting of Sora. He liked his flat, dark brown hair that curled at the sides, covering the back of his neck and ears. Even if his fringe threatened to render him blind, he liked scruffy. It just suited him to the ground. Sora apparently ran round in bright yellow shoes for a start. Not a one for blending in, this Sora...He felt a tug on his jeans jarring his thoughts for later.

"Put this on please, kupo." The Moogle said, holding up a glove with wires snaking from below its surface. Kieran complied, slipping it on. Then, the little creature ran around his legs. He watched it zip to a huge machine with a plethora of blinking lights. The ends of those wires were clamped into place within a wire clip on the machine. The little creature spared no time pushing buttons on the grey wardrobes surface. Well, the lack of light in the little workshop made it look grey. The light-bulb seemed to have recently given up the ghost. No-one's offered to change it for the diminutive Moogle. Just candles at knee-high surfaces. The sudden tingling sound made him look to the Moogle that had now turned his attention to his customer. He could still feel his fingers but his palm felt strangely numb. He had no idea why. Well, the wardrobe with all the lights and buttons attached to the glove...That might do something. Although, wouldn't the creation of a keychain be more....dramatic? So far, all that happening is that my has, has...there's red smoke...The glove appeared to be letting of a red steam from the connection from the wire. He studied it carefully. How this little gas was being formed from nothing.

Then a white plume jetted upwards, followed by a black one. He was still studying the wires on his hand. How they seemed to pull smoke out of thin air. Now, the next bit was when the machine creates a new keychain. Maybe there was a slot. He raises his gaze on the machine that is producing the same jets of smoke. Red, white and black poured out of the buttons while unhealthy noises grew louder and louder. The Moogle had vanished for the moment. Probably a wise decision. Cogs failed to gel, making a grinding noise as they missed each other. Internal arms started beating against the metal casing. A few of the lights began to blink off.

Bang! The front of the machine comes of its rivets. The metal has bent around an object that seems to have killed the machine. Something square....Maybe some part of the machine had come loose, ripping it apart from the inside. He didn't remove the glove, just drawn to this shape in the metal. So he took a step. Then another and another. His curiosity reeled him in, yanking on his arms to lift the metal plate off whatever was inside. It was black. A rounded, glossy square with a handle in the centre. The keychain rattled from it. Two scarlet fins on either side of a metal shaft lodged in the machine. He grabbed the soft handle and yanked it out of the machine. He was splashed back with pieces of metal, cogs and wires. The weapon was definitely a full keyblade. And actual keyblade that he had created. Him! Finally! He'd been chosen for one of this once in a life time things. The 'cutting edge' to make it look like a key had a 'T' shape cut out of it. There was a sort of wave on the other side of the weapon. A decorative add-on of a red stripe in white on black. Its elegant curl around each end threw his mind into a five year-old on Christmas...Someone's got to hear this!

The first reaction was his parents...That didn't turn out well...As soon as he got to his street, he had to double-take. Rubble shouldn't be here.

He was falling.

The sudden realisation jerked him awake but he was still falling.
Darkness clung to everything, it seemed like he was blind folded. That thought diminished. He could see himself perfectly well.
Sinking through nothing, his clothes flapping through the air he could feel rushing through his fingers, his hair. This was all tranquil, gaunt and quiet. Mostly silence in this dream pit he was plummeting through. He looked up...or down. Its not clear but he could see stained-glass rushing to meet him. The pattern was odd. Understandable but odd.
It was his emblem. Its just a symbol he uses with the name he assumes when he pays games on his computer: Tyro. Its just something he suddenly thought of once. He's in his dream world. Of course it would turn up.
He eventually rights himself, landing softly on the window glass.
There is nothing but a mirror. It seemed to have materialised from nowhere.
He looks into the glass. Studying the mirror. It is a simple thing. No decoration.
Just a straight curve around the cool pool of reflection. Simple.
He stares into his own eyes. They seem normal. They flit around the image of his face.
It too seems normal. But this situation is not normal. It feels wrong. Perverse almost.
He notices two new shapes behind him in the mirror. His eyes moves towards them, falling upon his own face and figure copied twice in the glass. They stood at the stain-glass window's edge behind him. On one side, behind his shoulder was one form of himself, swinging on his feet, left and right. Over the other shoulder was himself, head hanging and clenching each fist a tightly as possible. Every few seconds the image crushed the air in its palms. He turns to see two figures in cloaks where the images of himself are supposed to be. One in white and one in black.

The one in white seemed to be whispering something. Quietly but getting minutely louder with each repetition. Kieran trod closer towards the two and the chanting of the figure in white grew audible.
"I like rabbits. They are fluffy. I like fluffy things. Rabbits are fluffy. I like rabbits." Kieran's face creases with confusion. He ignores the mounting growl from behind him as he approaches the one in white.
"They are fluffy."
His hand is reaching for the hood of the white cloak. A protective hood that shrouds their face's in darkness. A shadow that shuts out their features from the rest of the world.
"I like fluffy things."
His grasping fingers are closing the gap but it rarely moves. Just the gentle swinging of its arms from side to side. It shows no real evidence of awareness.
"Rabbits are fluffy." Its only now that a growling noise has become noticed. Kieran stops reaching for the hood and looks behind him to see the black cloak rear backwards. It readies then swings its hidden arm into Kieran's stomach like a bear. The force winds him as he is knocked upwards and off the edge.

He hears a terrifying roar as he plummets off into nothing.

Kieran awakes suddenly in his hotel room. This was somewhere he'd been given. His house was mostly just rubble. Everything he'd ever owned was either crushed or destroyed in the wreckage. Now he lived on his own in the hotel. Family have been declared missing, presumed dead. Clearly, it sent him round the twist. He's never had a recurring dream before. It was the first time anyone had been in the darkness too. The Glass Window had been nothing more than a platform of silence for a few days now that he'd fall towards regularly. Falling seemed oddly important in everything though...So did the figures.

Ah come on! Enough already. He looks about the small room, filled with what was left. He threw aside week-old jeans and t-shirts before finding some socks that were promptly put on. He started to through stuf out of the way for that t-shirt that didn't have to stains down it. A few film's were thrown like frisbees to the side as he crawled on his hands and knees. A games disk was placed on the table in the centre of the room, as was a superficially shredded book called 'Mogworld'. The t-shirt surrenders to Kieran's searching and is shoved over his head before you can blink.

Research had been fruitless when he went looking into his dreams. The library's books were limited. Books on mythology and dream reading had very little. Mostly something about a massive downturn in events. One said he was likely to die of cancer very soon....cheery...

The stain-glass windows made little sense at this point, but maybe being a little nuts was just part of being a keybearer. The stupid things only been getting everyone around him rattled up around him. He's constantly being stared at. He knows because he catches people in the act. He gets funny looks when he says that he's going out. And bigger portions at the hotel. Great but it is to give him more energy, right?

Metal rattles like bags of chains as men quick-march in single-file towards the Second District gate. They set up a barrier in the bright street-lamp lit street. The fountain trickles with water in the silence. Anticipation is solid. The metal tinkling together as the men fidget, swords champing at the bit. Their eyes watch the cobble stones with fire-lighting intensity. The men are all hangning upon the word of the man in charge, Captain Patis. A large, rounded man with a large handle car mostache that pokes out under his sausage nose and his helmet's visor. His armour barely fitted over the figure of excess Patis carried. But the men hung on the Captain's word. He too was watching the pavement intently.

A slit in the air opened with a black splash, that dissipated into the air. The slit grew and held long enough for a hooded figure to step out from its clouded void. This figure drew a katana from its side. The black hoody covered the person's face so well, it was as though the clothes were hollow. The illusion was from how no skin was shown. The figure wore gloves, long slacks and some thigh-high boots, all in black but hemmed in a deep purple. The katana was held high for the Traverse Town guard assembled before the gate, to see. Slow, confident steps forwards and drew a katana. The tempered blade made a ringing clang as the weapon tapped against its scabbard. The air was serrated when the edge sailed through it, starting to spit black as the figure swung in complicated motions. Darkness slid off its surface and fell upon the floor where Shadows materialised. Soldiers pop into existence and Darkballs, quivering in their arrival, jaggedly grin at the men of Traverse Town. They stared unflinching, in fear or steady control. The sword cleaves more of the air until the hooded figure taps the tip on the pavement below. Above, wooden hulls and decorated cannons appears in black smears against the navy sky.
"You are trespassing in our home, Stand down or we will force you too." This was barked, rather than simply said, by a man that appeared to have had his vocal chords replaced by a dog. His every syllable was a growl, rising in gargled aggression as the Captain lost what barely counted as patience. More restrictive protocol. He was answered with a blast from a cannon that burst over the men's head as the figure raised her sword.
"The Organisation takes what it wants." She said simply, It was a confident, but definitely female voice. A smug and unyielding resolve. She had a better army after-all.
"All you'll get young abomination is a ticket back to-" Another cannon blast cut him off. Everyone looked up at the Battleship that had fired without command from the figure's sword. Another cannon fired into the Soldiers below as it tried to blast off the weight on its side. Kieran had leaped to the nearest Battleship from his hotel window, rapidly regretting the rash decision. The weight of another form was too much for the Battleship and was now loosing altitude rather quickly. Other Battleships trained their cannons on Kieran as the panicing heartless sank further.
"THAT BOY!?" roars Patis, globules of spittle spraying from his lips. The Battleship plummets into the cobblestones below, the area not really being emptied by the largely vacant Shadows. Now, the Battleship seemed to explode upon impact after failing to fly up again and crushing some Shadows with it. It bursts into a plume of black smoke, vanishing hastily. Kieran, on the other hand, jumps from the ship just before crashing, landing on his feet. His knees bend with the impact and he catches himself before he falls backwards. Weapon in hand, he raises himself to full hight before making one large swipe at the surrounding Shadows.

The Figure in black watches Tyro. She sees his less than graceful landing and his...experimental sword-fighting technique. Another row of Shadows vanish in ebony wisps and a Soldier is knocked flying. She keeps she sword readied with each step towards Kieran through the dark creatures, clearing a path for her.

Kieran swings three times or a Darkball before spinning, swatting at more approaching shadows. The heartless are being kept at by the Keyblade. He'd been using this weapon for almost a week now. He was getting used to his weight, feel, strength. His skill improved every day. He flicks a kick at a Soldier.
"So your Tyro. I was expecting someone more impressive to be wielding a weapon like that." Unable to really see who was talking due to all the fighting, Kieran just assumed it was the black-clothes stranger.
"What were you expecting?" He says, embedding his weapon in a dissolving Darkball. "A mountain of muscles?"
"I was expecting grace and finesse from a wielder of the Keyblade." She said, tapping her weapon's tip on the cobblestones. A neon sign illuminating her just visible chin.
"I'm working on it." Kieran growled. He charges for two Soldiers but they retreat. So do the Darkballs, and the Shadows. Even the Battleships make a circle around him and this girl at the sound of the blade's tapping. She points that tip at Kieran.
"Would you like me to test you?" She said, sweetly and full of patronisation.
"No. Not really." Kieran replies, his hand gripping the handle of the Keyblade a little tighter.

There is a moments pause. Mainly because she had no idea how to reply to that...Both of them, the Heartless and the Guard all onlookers to the duel. In one ringing clash, Kieran manages to make sure he's not sliced in two by the katana. She skips backwards to avoid his counter swipes.

Patis had no intention of just watching:
"Men! Arms at the ready!" A few of his regiment took rifles from their sides. They cocked these long guns like pistols. "Aim!" Both Kieran and the girl looked at the firing squad. She looked to Kieran before breaking into a bold, undignified run.
"FIRE!" Bullets nipped at her boots, hitting a few Heartless that were also retreating. She was heading towards a wall. Like an underground spring, black sprang up, forming a kind of swirling door. She was making a beeline for that. Kieran was hot on her heels but not close enough to actually catch her. Two steps from the black portal, he goes for broke.

He wasn't sure where the idea came from but he knew it was his best shot. He stopped and threw his keyblade like a massive knife. The throw was perfect: good balanced throw, with a good feel of weight behind it all. Its just that she vanished into the black before it clanged against the wall. her and the portal had gone.

The Guard used an old Library for their Head Quarters. They'd cleaned the old place up: straightened desks, bookshelves cleaned and papers mostly cleaned away. They'd explored most of the rooms but only used about three. One of them was Captain Patis' office. The grimy window in it's door game no clues to the inside. It squealed as Kieran disturbed the hinges. The dog-eared carpet looked almost black in the low light Patis liked. You could just about see the green in it. Kieran sat in the wooden chair; the youngest item in the office. Apart from the soft yellow of the lamp on a filing cabinet behind Patis the only light was coming from the blinds behind him. The neon lights outside could make for a hard place to sleep on some streets. Another glow came from Patis' hand as he lit the pipe in his mouth. The long bowing look of the thing made it look more like a tusk he could breath fire from. A couple of push and he appeared to be ready to talk.
"Kieran, I trust you understand why your here?" Ah! He's going to let me start this one off....greeeaat...
"No..." Kieran replied.
"You are here because he have to talk, man to man. I am the only one fit to do that it seems. I have to talk to you because your behaviour has become reckless."
"Reckless? I've been trying to do a job."
"Ay! My job!" Patis takes a big drag on the pipe, releasing the smoke out the other side of his mouth. You can see his bald, head, lined either wide with a carpet of ginger hair. His eye-brows as lick as cats tails. "I wish to say that you are not expected to fight the Heartless in the town. You can go back to school, where you should be."
"But I'm more use out fighting Heartless."
"No. You are better suited too-"
"I have a Keyblade. I've been given a job to do and I'm going to-"
"Stay in School where your Mother and Father would want you to stay. You will go to school and-"
"Stagnate, letting people get taken by the Heartless. If I don't fight, the problem gets worse, right? More Hearts for the Heartless means more will come, right?"
"My men Mr Clare, will deal with the Heartless Threat!" Patis' growl was adding bite to his syllables. You get the feeling adding 'Mr' to everything was more of a formality than a sincere attempt at talking 'man-to-man'
"And I want to help you!" And Kieran's seemed to be becoming more forced too.
"We do not need help from children!" Patis spat. If Kieran could growl like a threatened dog, he wouldn't have to just sit there and throw all his effort into the angry expression.
"I'm not a kid!"
"You are a child! You've no idea of how the worlds work! We of the Traverse Town Guard do not want help from a child! We fight a war against an enemy that has both great numbers and an insatiable hunger. We do not send children to war, Mr Clare. We send men. Do I make myself clear? You are not allowed in our army. We accept only men."

A passive hatred bubbled behind Kieran's eyes and his fingers seemed to grip the chair. The pressure to thump something with all his weight was getting to bursting point. The flames fanned by his brain trying to get a proper argument out in time.

"Boy! I will let you go and I'll take that weapon from you. I will keep it under lock and key." Wait...Your going to lock it up? "You are to return to school where you belong. Is that clear?" Each word in that last sentence was like a slab of stone smacking into the ground.

Its at this point that the mundane was to be rejected. The mind has snapped and dropped what it has known before in order to take on a bigger bite of what it has had. He's spent a couple of weeks like a fox. He has rushed through the tight, neon-bathed streets with slickness. He has ducked behind signs, walked above the heads of the Guards wherever he could to stop himself getting into trouble. He has smashed as much Heartless as he can handle. He feels he's made a difference. But he feels like there must be more to do. He would have to steal more time to stay as what he currently was. He would have to take a stand, slapping the Captain on the cheek, telling him where to shove school.

He looked up, with little change in his petulant expression, to stare into Patis' face and say simply: "Fine."

Ah...Rebellion felt good.

He was falling. The air flaps through his clothes like flags as he lands on his feet at the bottom.
"HAAAAAAIIII!" A white bobbing came from his left side. Kieran slid round, fists up ready to repel it's attack. "I MIIIIISSED YOOOUUU!" The white-cloaked girl hugged him before he could rightly complain. She actually hugged so that Kieran's fists were in his face, trapped against the girl's chest. Boa constrictors had nothing on the overly-loving embrace of this girl in the way she seemed to drape herself over him.
"Heh, hi..."
"It's so borrrrrring in here. All I can do here is grow and watch all the pretty lights. I want a pet. Like a kitty or a bunny or a kitty or a bunny or a kitty or a bunny or a rabbit or a cat or a budgy or a-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah! Look, could you maybe let me go?" Kieran's plea was a little hoarse.
"Huh? Oh yeah! OK." You could feel rather than see her beaming at him. Kieran sucked in a lungful once free.
"So, do you have a kitty? Or a bunny?"
"A cat?"
"No." Kieran crosses his arms.
"Your a little one-track minded..."
"Am I? I just really want a kitty or a bunny..."
"Any particular reason why?" The cloaked figure's posture drooped a little as she seemed to be struggling to find a reason why...
"Because their cute?"
"Fair enough...Errrmm...you got any idea where we are?" Kieran waited patiently for the answer that he really, really needed right about now...That hope of getting an answer wavered when she looked around herself then shrugged.
"An abyss on a giant stain-glass window?" Hope dead, next question.
"Yeah, do you have a name at least? I couldn't get one the last time I was here." The hooded figure stood still for a few seconds. Silently she thought long an hard about the simplest of questions. Infuriatingly, Kieran stood there waiting...
"Yes? Actually, how did you know my name?"
"No, is my name Kieran?"
"Is it?"
"Ahh! I don't know!" The white hooded figure raised a cloaked arm to her shrouded face. Kieran ignored the delicate sobbing; her sleeve had pulled itself off to show her pasty hand underneath. Three of the five digits looks as though they had been cut off. Short stubs that left a large gap in her fist.
"Hey, it's all right...Maybe it's just Amnisia?"

Why the hell am I here?

"Ah good, you found him..." Ah dark growl from the dark shuddered through the air. The sound wasn't interested in just jumping through the air, it steam-rolled through it. Kieran span on his heals as he looked around him for the new lunatic to arrive.
"Hello?" It was more as though the unending black poured the form out, filling an outline in with the suit of jagged metal that became a suit of miss-matched armour. Each bit had been pained to match but battered beyond what you would think usable. The helmet had withstood a massive dent by something in the past. But this knight in broken armour was far taller than either of them. All ten foot of the new warrior strides towards them.
"Ah...We kill him, this all stops...I can stop it. I can end it all..." Kieran didn't bother asking about why he was now the target of the knight. If he couldn't get it from the girl in the white cloak, what chance did the ten-foot freak have?
"We'll die too! This has to happen. She told me this had to happen." The girl had stood up, standing strong against the knight.
"You, what?" Kieran let this slip out despite his lack of confidence in either's abilities to just explain anything.
"Nothing changes if we kill him now. If we take his weapon from him." The window bursts open as a jagged stream of black edges rises out from the abyss below. From Tyro's side, she raised a weapon. Once he could actually look at the blade more clearly, she had actually summoned an entire wing. A huge, white-feathered wing that hung out of her large sleeve. Feathers were missing from it in large chunks. So was that her arm?
"Bring it bitch." The knight giggled, more of the jagged streamers shot forth from the glass at the girl. She got in the first attack though, some how slicing through with her new wing across a gap in the shoddy armour.

Kieran flopped to the ground, clutching at his chest. He cried out as the girl made another blow. The knight swept his arm, catching the girl in his arc. She slides across the glass. Kieran's eyes snap shut, unable to concentrate on anything but the pain.

"NAHH!" He's sitting up in bed, gasping for breath. Just his room...nothing but his room. He's OK. Although, his heart feels like lead...

Last edited by Tyro on Sat Oct 29, 2011 6:03 am; edited 6 times in total (Reason for editing : Updating more of this.....)
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Tyro's Origin Story: Kingdom Hearts: Starting Embers: Chapter One
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