the one without a name
without an honest heart as compass

► d2; steampunk
► Saffy; GMT-8; heroic BSOD

otherness: (softly ☓ hearts that cannot mend)

Leave a message here. Anonymous commenting is enabled, and all comments are screened. ♥
otherness: (endless ☓ we too could be glorious)
It feels like I'm falling.

It's so familiar.

I feel like I'm forgetting something... something important.

[Roxas awakens with a gasp. He doesn't remember when he dozed off and he doesn't know how long he's been here. But every time he wakes up, he leaves a little mark on the wall, and there are... quite a few of those. His collection has a couple of strikes through it already. It'll probably earn a few more before he stops existing.

Wouldn't that be a blessing?

Even though Riku had hauled him in to wake Sora up and supposedly DiZ was satisfied with this... Roxas had been tossed into the cell where he is now. Soulless were just leftover garbage to DiZ, remnants of failed experiments-- the offal of his research, he'd said, and then refused to elaborate. And that was the last time Roxas had seen anyone.

Deprived of way out and still nursing his injuries from the duel, he can't say he's in any shape to break out. At first he'd spent all his energy whacking the Keyblade against the bars of the cell, but it was the magical barrier that threw him back, bodily, every time. And every time he'd gotten right back up again. He fought until his gloves split and the skin beneath began to blister; he fought until his wounds reopened and he had to stem the bleeding with what was left of his shirt. He fought until he was exhausted and crying and spent, prostrated on the floor. Still, no one came.

He's sure that no one will come tonight, either. Or the next night, or the night after that. Roxas has been forgotten. He's an inferior clone of Sora-- and that's all he'll ever be.

Roxas closes his eyes. His fingertips ghost over the still-healing wounds along his stomach and side. After a moment, they move upward to his chest. To his heart. For some reason, he can still feel it thump-thump-thumping in his chest.]

Stupid Heart, [he mutters in a raspy voice unaccustomed to speech after so long.] You should've gone to be with him, too.

[He idly wonders what would happen if a Soulless with a heart drove a Keyblade through it. Maybe he'd make Sora a third problem. Maybe it'd bring Xion back... Maybe it would end this, once and for all. He's just so tired. What's he even good for? He can't keep his promise to Xion. He can't do anything right. He can't even stop existing properly-- who knows if he won't make problems for Sora down the road?

Roxas tilts his head back and closes his eyes again. Maybe next time he'll wake up as someone else.]
otherness: (☓ never committing to anything)
This post is to keep track of simple, short missions that don't require elaborate planning.
otherness: (Default)
"This is Roxas. I'm not here, so... leave a message, I guess."


Please put the date, time, and method of contact in the header of your comment so I can keep track. Thank you!
otherness: (annoyed ☓ the present lies)
This page was loaded Oct 19th 2017, 4:01 pm GMT.