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ｒｅｕｎｉｏｎ．
It feels like I'm falling.
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.]
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.]
no subject
Letting you out of here. I thought that was obvious.
[ For once, he's actually kind of glad he's got the blindfold on. It means Roxas can't see the guilt in eyes. At least he's managing to keep it out of his tone - for now. ]
There isn't much time, and you don't want to get caught. So, go.
no subject
Roxas is stubborn, though, and he's not going to accept Riku as a friend just because he opened a door. There's always the possibility of finding a Keyblade in his back later. But... but he'd be a fool if he didn't walk out of here right now.
If he's free, then he can at least fight for his life.
Reluctantly and still glaring like hell, he lets the Keyblade dissipate from his hand and takes a shuddering step toward the door. Another, and another, the promise of freedom giving him strength when otherwise he would have none.]
I'm not gonna thank you, [Roxas hisses under his breath.] Not yet. [Not when Riku put him there. He's going to be stubborn until he can taste daylight. Then he might give Riku the time of day.
But until then, it's time to flee. He thinks he remembers the way out of this forsaken lab and the dark mansion built on top of it. He eschews the elevator and flees up the steps instead, covered in stale blood and self-made bandages like a madman let out of hell. He's going slow enough due to his wounds that Riku can catch up easily. Roxas isn't going to wait for him, that's for sure.]
no subject
Roxas can be as stubborn as he wants. Honestly, Riku deserves the suspicion, after everything he's done. He won't say a word about it, won't even try to defend himself. There's no real defense, after all.
He stays leaning against the bars, watches Roxas flee - well, more like drag himself out of here. He's probably just going to hurt himself even more, pushing himself when he's already in such a terrible state... Riku will of course catch up with him, eventually - probably shove a potion at him just to keep him from keeling over before he even manages to get out of here at all. Might as well give him the illusion of a head start first.
Besides, Riku has something else he wants to break before he takes his own leave. So, he'll see him somewhere up top. He can keep himself out of sight and out of trouble for a little bit, right? ]
no subject
Roxas clears the stairs and the first floor, knocking over some dusty furniture in his hurry. He gets held up at the courtyard however, as creatures from the mist coalesce out of the shadows.
He summons his keyblade and redoubles his grip.]
You're just small fry. Get out of the way!
[He's sorely outnumbered and in danger but he's still standing. When they leap onto him and try to knock him down, he flings them away but doesn't give chase. He's not in the mood for standing up, let alone running around.]
Get lost!
[A burst of light ripples outward from Roxas in an angry wave and incinerates about half of the Soulless, who are starting to reconsider pouncing on the weakened Keyblader but not enough to retreat.]