ALL ABOUT YOU
IM Messenger: plotdesigner on aim
ALL ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER
Name: Kefka Palazzo
Game: Final Fantasy VI
Point in Canon: Just after the final boss fight
History/Background: There’s little known about Kefka’s life prior to the game. The game states that he was the one who put the slave crown on Terra’s head and brainwashed her, that he was the first magitek night, and that the process of gaining magic from that made his mind crack.
Some non-game sources claim thus: he was an orphan who joined the Imperial academy at an early age and graduated with high honors. He became a lab technician because of his great love for the Emperor and worked with Esper-related technology under Cid. When it was completed, when he was 23, he volunteered to be the first magitek knight created by magitek infusion.
It was successful in that it gave him incredible magic powers. He joined the army and flew up the ranks with help from his gift for tactics and his magic, eventually becoming a general at age 30 (five years prior to the game).
On the other hand, something went wrong with the infusion—in Kefka’s mind. About three years before the game starts, Kefka suffers a nervous breakdown; when he recovers, he starts wearing garish clothing, playing with dolls and killing people he doesn’t like. This does not sit well with the Emperor, so Kefka is demoted to Court Mage.
I don’t know whether it’s canon or not, but it’s wormed it’s way into my headcanon, so it’ll be this Kefka’s cannon as well.
This summarizes Kefka’s story in the game better than I can. For those who want the ten second summary of Kefka’s role in FFVI: in the first half of the game, Kefka is either getting beaten up and humiliated or killing lots of people in horrible ways while laughing and doing clever things with words. In the second half of the game, Kefka blows up the world and rules it with help from his giant fricken laser beam until the party shows up, tells him that nihilistic destruction is not doin it rite, and kills him.
In the game, Kefka is introduced as the one who put the slave crown on Terra and made her murder 50 soldiers. When she frees herself, he tries to catch her by setting Figaro Castle on fire (long story), and is thwarted by the castle’s tunneling ability. He poisons the city of Doma, despite Sabin beating him (in single-punch battles!) beforehand. He invades Narshe with plans to kill everyone in the town and is handily defeated again. When the party sneaks into the magitek
For those wondering about Kefka’s fighting style: he’s five foot two and 105 pounds, which means he would be easy to snap over someone’s knee—if they can catch him, that is. He’s fast and knows enough high-powered black magic to fry a few cities with ease; in the game, this amounts to all status spells and –aga level fire/ice/thunder spells, although since he’s recovering from being final boss’d, it may short out from time to time. He’s sensitive to magic; in game, he can sense high levels of it in magical creatures, and I’m extrapolating that the same goes for high levels in people and objects as well.
On the other hand, if you get him mad enough that he resorts to physical moves, he’ll either try to oneshot the enemy with a poisoned knife or use his Morningstar to pummel his enemy to death. Not it’ll do a lot of good; he hits like a sleepy five year old…although he can put a lot of strength into a stab if he has some windup, and he has really good aim.
Personality: Kefka is a spaz with a short temper and a predilection for melodramatics. He likes insulting and abusing people under his control as well as his enemies, although he tends to go for creativity rather than obscenity when that happens, and he will do it often if he thinks he can get away with it. When he’s defeated in combat or has one of his plans successfully thwarted, he throws tantrums and yells insults before getting the hell away because he doesn’t want to get killed. He’ll freely run away from fights if he thinks he’s going to lose, and he tends to overreact when he gets hurt. (“I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate you!”) He doesn’t just talk, he gestures; he’s not just surprised, he jumps; he’s not just angry, he stomps his feet and milks an invisible cow; he doesn’t just laugh, he cackles.
This doesn’t mean he’s not a threat—Kefka overacts and overreacts, but he plans, too. He sets up so that he has poison ready when Leo leaves Doma, and when Emperor Gestahl tries to kill him with on the Floating Continent, Kefka knows to head to a place that nullifies magic and then punts the Emperor off a cliff. He’s decent at thinking on his feet, too—he sows dissent in the party by claiming Celes is on his side, and messes with General Leo’s head using illusions enough that he can kill him with a single stroke, despite being a little over half his weight. He has no empathy or remorse getting in his way from doing nasty things. He has no problem with breaking rules if it will get him what he wants. He loves hurting people, especially when they scream.
There is one person Kefka takes orders from, and that’s himself. He is a god and no matter who or what he’s working for, his first goal will be taking care of himself and regaining his lost godhood and as well as any other power he can find along the way.
He thinks the worst of people, and is delighted when he’s right. People who are outstandingly virtuous piss him off and confuse him, and he’ll try to kill them or corrupt them if he gets the opportunity. He won’t mind as much if they’re outstandingly virtuous in order to protect him, though.
Kefka loooooves magic. So much. More than people. More than anything. If you can show him new black or grey magic he will be your new best friend until you are not helpful or you try to kill him. White magic, he’s less enthused about, but there are benefits to floating and Holy and if given a chance and no opportunities for other kinds of magic, he’d probably give it a shot. He has a sixth sense for it.
Kefka the God is different from normal Kefka; he is serene and speaks dispassionately. He sees life in the big picture, and that big picture is everything is going to die in a million years so what’s the point of living? Now that Kefka isn’t a technical god, he probably won’t act like this unless he gets his powers back or something dramatic happens.
Kefka loves his own reflection; that’s why he dresses up. If he went blind, he wouldn’t care about his looks, although he might get into the way his clothing feels. He loves messing with his senses, which comes in part from his affinity for status magic. He loves exotic things, especially if they’re intense or he can use them to kill people; both is better. He also likes playing with dolls and dressing them up, although he tends to set them on fire when he’s angry (which is often). He’s good at carving new dolls too, and might give people some in exchange for something good.
Maybe I should have made the castle collapse before I died. I wouldn’t have got to talk to the happiness squad, but considering their utter lack of falling into despair and giving me complete victory, or even having a half-amusing excuse for continuing to live before they faced me, it wouldn’t have been too much of a loss.
Yes, killing them before would have worked. The crunch and squish of bone under brick—magic can’t protect you from a falling ceiling, can it? And that musclehead they brought along wouldn’t be able to hold the ceiling for that long. Smash, boom, done. Gone. All fourteen of them, damn their goody-two-shoes hearts—eee hee hee hee. Leave me alone to god over the world ahahaaaaaaaa~ There’s no point to anything anyway; why should I have let them talk? Stupid stupid stupid!
The alleys in Vector were better for drunken ranting. I’m not drunk, of course; gods don’t need drinks, just magic. I think my wings fell off during the battle because my back hurts and there’s blood all over the ground and smeared on the walls. I don’t think I’m drunk, just injured. In shock. That’s what human bodies do when they lose this much blood. Go into shock. Not like Leo’s shock, the little suckup goody goody, but the shock I put him when I stabbed him in Thamasa—I held the knife while he coughed up blood and watched him die; it was over too quickly for my taste but I wasn’t going to leave the chance of him getting better and no one survives a punctured lung, no one eeh hee hee hee—
Once I can walk, I’ll make them all pay. Especially the brat. I’m going to have paintbrush-sized bruises on my face all day long and I don’t even have make up for it. Little child of a chocobo!
Where am I? Does it matter? I can’t see the train station from here. I thought I destroyed it. Everything is destroyed , sooner or later, and why not the afterlife too? It’s not like it was doing anything important. Maybe one of them was destroyed in the castle. I hope so. I wouldn’t mind seeing their anguished face at my successful arrival to the phantom trainlot ahaha!
Kefka climbs up the tree with ease, the bag of stolen books bumping against his hip with each new foothold, until he reaches the last sturdy branch and perches on it and places his new catch in front of him.
He loves books. Always has. They were so useful when it came to looking up important things like where to go to get a fast-acting poison that could kill a castle within a matter of minutes or creating a floating continent or where the gods would nullify magic and they always smelled so nicely when he burned them. The crackle of crisping pages always sent a tingle up his spine and the sight of fire eating away at the book made him feel warm inside.
By his count, he has about ten minutes before the brat they sent after him figures out he’s in the trees. He took a few decoy books for this; he’ll toss them at the brat until he leaves. If that doesn’t work, Kefka will set the kid on fire. Simple, easy, amusing. He’s missed the screams.
He straightens the illusion over his form before he pulls out his first prize; since he first started waiting around for the Phantom Train to pick him up and ship him off to the proper afterlife, he’s been practicing his powers without the full force of godhood behind them. His manifestation of illusions is still sloppy without a half hour of concentration before it, but he’s been wearing Sabin’s face for the last half hour and it hasn’t slipped yet.
Kefka opens his first book with a flourish: The History of the World, Part 1. He had to start somewhere, right? There was no foothold for his history in this place inhabited by men in black; no one knew Vector, Tzen, Maranda, Albrook, Thamasa—not even mention of the opera house drew notice. No one knew Gestahl. No one knew Kefka. No flinch when he reached out to touch, no guard when he opened his mouth in case it was a curse—he misses the fear. He misses the smell of blood. He can’t strike out now, not yet, not with his power still growing back to full.
Magic still anchors his senses, the weight of elements on his hands keeping him guarded, the cyanide in his mouth making him watchful—he just needs someone to anchor himself to. Someone powerful. Someone who won’t try to get rid of him until it’s too late, and approve of everything he does until then. Someone who won’t mind when he has to kill for the cause.
The book should help. It better. Kefka hates being disappointed.