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Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2018 4:14:31 GMT -5
The late afternoon light made the capital’s grand gardens a dichotomy of hues and shadows. It’d been beautiful at noon certainly, when Roxas had watched the midday sunlight sparkle off waters transversing carefuly constructed ornamental rapids and watched Koi fish slow ply more placid water in weaving floes of oranges, stripes and spots. However, while the noon sun washed out the flowers to singular discrete colors, its setting had allowed more subtleties to show throughout the gardens and its blooms, the blurring of spectrums no doubt the intension of the yellow-clad anchorites who tended this verdant refuge of contemplation. As he watched lengthening shadows give carefully placed hanzi-covered rocks entirely different silhouettes and the shaded waters refract eventide into optical illusions permeated by pale floating lotuses, Roxas figured Xemnas could’ve gone at length about how the perpetual liminality of nature illustrated some metaphysical truth. But Roxas was neither philosopher, nor eager to remember his golden-eyed master. So, he just let the sunset adumbrate through the garden without comment, letting the understanding pass through his eyes into a deep wordless place.
His walk across footbridge bridges and along paths weaving between blossoming cheery trees laden with roseate petals and thick redolence was stopped by the raised hand of a monk. Not realizing the small shrine at the foot of a draconic jade statue was in use, Roxas didn’t have time to find a different route before an aged cenobite bid him be still and passed a symbol inscribed inscence bowl and smoke-stick with the clear air of a time-honored ritual. Getting the distinct impression of being sucked into something he’d didn’t understand, Roxas received the implements awkwardly, fearing to crush its clay contours or spill its reverent contents. “um…thanks.” Feeling the expectation heavy in the caretaker’s gaze, the Nobody looked blankly down at the his new cargo and then back up again, uncomfortable beseeching grin spreading across his face.
Eventually the monk offered mercy with a raised eyebrow. “They’re for your ancestors boy.” A patient sweep of the hand indicated Roxas was to ascend the dais.
“Kay,” the otherworldly traveler affirmed with an agreeable nod, but didn’t move. Blue eyes met hazel ones in a moment of now shared confusion. “How do I …?”
Both eyebrows raised now. “How do you what child?”
The responding rueful smile convinced neither of them. “Nevermind that sir, I got this.”
“You…are certain?”
A nod neither believed and a mutual bow later, Roxas ascended the grey granite dais surrounded by yellow orchids. In time he was left alone to pray to the ancestors he didn’t have. Born of no lineage, and created in the image of no deity, Roxas had no one and nothing to beseech. Instead he simply knelt in silence upon the cool stone, ritual smoke wafted in thin trails of vapor into the starry evening.
The wind brushed errant cherry blossoms against his cheek.
@leonard
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Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2018 5:18:38 GMT -5
[attr="class","lcontainer"] [attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"]  [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","lplate"] [attr="class","lpik"]  [attr="class","ltextholder"] [attr="class","ltext1"]To cling to hearts... [attr="class","ltext2"]Is to cling to the ugliness...of ourselves [attr="class","lscroll"] The garden was all quiet and the rain of the cherry blossoms was beautiful. However, the quiet wouldn't stay for much longer. A breeze went past Roxas, carrying a few petals with them, when suddenly someone stood behind the boy in a safe distance. He had just appeared out of nowhere almost, his eyes closed, the petals dancing around him carefully.
“You are praying to the nothingness, child. And here I am, answering your call.”, he would say with his soft and calm voice, a smile spreading on his face slightly as he opened his eyes to reveal the ocean blue. No one was here right now but them. One would wonder why Marluxia was here, just simply talking to the kid and not slaying him right here and now. This was not the Assassin's intention at all. He was here for something else...
“Roxas... It has been a long time. Over a year, I guess. I hope you still use my lessons these days?”
He chuckled, moving a hand through his hair carefully, getting a few strands of hair out of his face that the wind had blown over his eyes slightly. The assassin seemed very relaxed, even though he was standing before the other half of the one that had slain him once. Something about the aura of the kid was not right. It was almost as weak as back than when he had taught him how to fight, so Marluxia had nothing to fear. This boy might not even be able to summon the key.
“Do you remember me?”
[attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","vansig"]✚Curio [googlefont="Lobster|Niconne|Raleway"] [newclass=.lcontainer]width:360px;background:#ccc;padding:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lplate]padding:10px;background:#111;padding:20px 0px 20px 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lpik]height:100px;width:100px;background:#ccc;float:center;border-radius:100%;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltextholder]height:30px;width;margin-top:-22px[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext1]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:1;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:30px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext2]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:0;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:24px;margin-top:-28px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext2]opacity:1;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lgrey]height:50px;background:#222;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare1]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare2]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:right;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll]height:300px;background:#111;text-align:justify;color:white;overflow:auto;padding:20px;line-height:15px;font-family:Raleway;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar]width:4px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]width:4px;background:#fff;[/newclass] @tapir |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2018 1:37:52 GMT -5
A familiar voice jolted Roxas from what little transcendence he’d managed to find in godless prayer. A tremor ran through the boy’s slight frame where he knelt, clad in the muted garb common to peasant farmers of the Dragon Lands, despite his pale complexion and mop of flaxen hair making ‘blending in’ a farce. Wide blue eyes contemplated the smoking brazier at his feet, racing thoughts trying to discern reality from salient memory, ever a struggle for Roxas. For a merciful moment, he decided that the voice that declared itself the fulfillment of agnostic invocation was just the stress of this week, the inevitable exhaustion that came with learning you literally dwelt in a lie…again.
Then the revenant spoke his name. Roxas felt that silken timber draw tight like a soft noose around his throat. The evening was lukewarm, but the trick of sweat down the young man’s back felt ice-cold.
At last, Roxas turned to look up into a diamond shaped face with features so delicate that they seemed crafted from cream. Thin flush lips were curved in a familiar cruel line, ever allusive of hunger sated only in violent quietus. Eyes of oceanic cerulean evoked in Roxas the faint vicarious memory of the Destiny Islands' surf, but the boy’d learned from expeirence these seeming pools of placidly were an illusion, like the glowing lure of a ravenous lanternfish. Rosette hair so soft and vaporous it seemed to be woven from the very blossoms Marluxia killed with rather then tresses of the comparably coarse mammalian variety, fell tumbles down broad shoulders. His movements, even the errant flourishes of somatic vanity, were suffused with a grace so complete it made the young athlete feel like a total klutz just watching.That Roxas knew Marluxia pruned life with the same effortless elegance with which he preened just made made the foppish facade all the more sinister. Roxas, whose mayfly existence hardly gave much standard by which to judge such things, nevertheless reckoned Marluxia was beautiful, comely in ways that transcended convention. But to Roxas at least, his former weaponmaster’s rare aspect evinced more cautious awe then any sort of erotic allure. Marluxia’s beauty was that of a tiger, nature’s merciless predation given a lissome form.
Roxas nodded slowly before trusting himself to speak. “Marluxia...” saying the name out loud just added to the sense of surreality. Number thirteen had lived such a bizarre brief life, that he no standard by which to judge what was and wasn’t possible, but….this?
“I remember,” he stressed the word gently. “Axel,” the slightest catch came on the name, a second of thickness in the throat, “saying you’re dead.” The use of present tense was consciously stubborn.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2018 7:54:45 GMT -5
[attr="class","lcontainer"] [attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","lplate"] [attr="class","lpik"] [attr="class","ltextholder"] [attr="class","ltext1"]To cling to hearts... [attr="class","ltext2"]Is to cling to the ugliness...of ourselves [attr="class","lscroll"] The assassin watched the kid like a hawk, his expression neutral as ever even with the smile gracing his lips. The child seemed shaken by him appearing here and dude to his reaction, he knew.. Roxas had not forgotten him. No. He could see fear on the others face, a silence stretching between them while the boys eyes seemed to take in his appearance, his body paralysed completely. The smile on Marluxia’s lips didn’t falter, even when the child found his voice again to speak out his name, like he was standing in front of a ghost. Axel had told him about his demise? How interesting. Had the other actually bragged about the slaughter in the Castle? That didn't seem like him, but who was he to judge the Flurry of Flames?
A chuckle escaped the man’s lips, his hand wandering to his chest.
“He did? Well, it seems he was mistaken by it to some degree. I have been slain, but I was reborn again by fate.”, he would state, choosing to be honest to the kid for now. “Erasing a nobody from existence does not mean the end, child. Don’t you know that?”
He looked away from the kid, sensing how he was shaken by his presence. Maybe his eyes bore to deep into the young man’s soul? Maybe this would ease his fear a bit.
“Roxas. The Keyblades Chosen One. The Organization is no more, so there is nothing you have to fear off me. There is no Xemnas to order me to destroy you, nor a reason for me to attack you in any way.”
He extended his arms slightly, taking in a breeze of the wind’s that moved through the garden, rustling the branches of the Cherry-Trees. “Such a beautiful world. So peaceful, even though this is a place of grieving. A place to pray for those long gone...”
[attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","vansig"]✚Curio [googlefont="Lobster|Niconne|Raleway"] [newclass=.lcontainer]width:360px;background:#ccc;padding:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lplate]padding:10px;background:#111;padding:20px 0px 20px 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lpik]height:100px;width:100px;background:#ccc;float:center;border-radius:100%;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltextholder]height:30px;width;margin-top:-22px[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext1]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:1;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:30px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext2]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:0;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:24px;margin-top:-28px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext2]opacity:1;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lgrey]height:50px;background:#222;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare1]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare2]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:right;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll]height:300px;background:#111;text-align:justify;color:white;overflow:auto;padding:20px;line-height:15px;font-family:Raleway;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar]width:4px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]width:4px;background:#fff;[/newclass] @tapir |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2018 15:06:17 GMT -5
Malaxia turned, dropping a perspective shattering revelation like Roxas was just behind the times on the whole ‘death is an empty forever’ thing.
Sure like it seemed totally nuts, contrary to everything he’d learned while the Organization’ amnesiac ward. But he had no reason to doubt Marluxia. XI had taught Roxas metaphysics in tandem with stances and weaponry. He’d been the one to induct the blank slate into mysteries of the ever illusive Heart, the grim spiritual science of the Heartless, the zoology of the void, and most of all, what role Keys played in the fulfillment of the Organization’s dreams of completion. Marluxia knew scary amounts about theosophy and the Heart in general, which made sense he supposed, seeing as XI had run Castle Oblivion, the Organization’s research facility.
Still…
Silly. Just because you have a next life...
…it was a lot to take in.
Swallowing the memory of ashes and a parting without hope of paradise, Roxas frowned as he stood, blonde brows furrowing as he tried to process everything. “No I didn’t,” he admitted, “Figured we just faded away y’know” He shrugged, the casual motion helping to the ease the tension knotted through his shoulders. “Like smoke or whatever.” More questions rushed in, fragile hope mixed the inevitable anxiety of shortfall. Roxas shoved it all away mentally, tried to concentrate, keep his eye on the ball here. Marluxia wasn’t the kinna dude you should let your guard down around.
Though what Marluxia said next was comforting, even if Roxas wasn’t dumb enough to equate lack of motivation for slaughter with it’s impossibility. Marluxia and Larxene both liked to play with their food. Still, no Xemnas was a relief. No Organization either should’ve been too but… like…was it screwed up to have that twinge in your gut on behalf of a bunch’a soulless psychos just because they raised you, were the closest thing to a family you ever had?
Probably.
His interlocutor encompassed the mournful placidity around them in a sweeping motion. Contoured greenery and staggered stones were set at precise intervals through trickling streams. This refuge of landscaped intentionality was separated from the rest of the bustling capital by high stone walls engraved with galloping kirin. “Yeah,” Roxas agreed softly, realizing that his companion had effortlessly discerned his heart’s purpose, even if he hadn't realized it himself until now. “You got anyone Marluxia?” The boy’s own question surprised him, an audacity of curiosity that became more insistent the more reason advised against it. “To pray for I mean.” Roxas folded steepled fingers behind his head.
“That why’re you’re here?”
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2018 18:17:07 GMT -5
[attr="class","lcontainer"] [attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","lplate"] [attr="class","lpik"] [attr="class","ltextholder"] [attr="class","ltext1"]To cling to hearts... [attr="class","ltext2"]Is to cling to the ugliness...of ourselves [attr="class","lscroll"]
Marluxia almost knew that Roxas would answer this to him asking if he knew the truth about them. Of course he didn't.. Xemnas had made a good job manipulating all of them to make them believe that his way and his words were the only truth.
“Xemnas's lies reach deep.. but I am sure you will understand what I mean in time. You are a smart young man, after all...”
Marluxia continued to watch his surroundings, seeing a few birds building a nest in a nearby tree who's petals brushed past his cheek, his hand moving out to catch a few of them softly in the air, before he lowered his hand to look at them.
Roxas asked him an.. interesting question. Did he have someone to pray for... The assassin chuckled, letting go of the petals again to set them free once more, the air carrying them into the sky, his blue orbs following them.
“Do you believe that is the reason for me to be here? To pay respect to my ancestors?”, he chuckled almost, his hand moving up to hold his chin for a moment as he thought about it. Did he have anyone to pray for? He searched his mind... but no face showed up before his eyes. No image, no memory that could tell him where he had come from.
“Do you think of me as someone who would? How.. deep off you, Roxas.. for you believing that I have a memory of someone fitting that description. You truly are connected to HIM.”
Yes, he was certain Sora would ask the same of someone if he would be here. Was Roxas trying to reach something that even Marluxia didn't know off? A heart... he once possessed not so long ago? Should he tell him? Would it make any difference?
“I am wandering these stars alone. It has always been like this since I can remember. If I do possess ancestors, I don't know their names, nor do I know the place they are coming from.”
[attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","vansig"]✚Curio [googlefont="Lobster|Niconne|Raleway"] [newclass=.lcontainer]width:360px;background:#ccc;padding:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lplate]padding:10px;background:#111;padding:20px 0px 20px 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lpik]height:100px;width:100px;background:#ccc;float:center;border-radius:100%;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltextholder]height:30px;width;margin-top:-22px[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext1]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:1;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:30px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext2]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:0;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:24px;margin-top:-28px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext2]opacity:1;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lgrey]height:50px;background:#222;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare1]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare2]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:right;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll]height:300px;background:#111;text-align:justify;color:white;overflow:auto;padding:20px;line-height:15px;font-family:Raleway;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar]width:4px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]width:4px;background:#fff;[/newclass] @tapir |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2018 5:50:15 GMT -5
Roxas gritted his teeth as Marluxia spoke the undeniable. He began to descend the granite steps of the shrine with footfalls made heavy with anger, eyes alight and narrowed. “Im not…"
You would knowingly shackle your heart with a chain of memories born of lies?
The Other stood in pallid halls, nevertheless ready play his part in a false fairytale.
You would be one who has a heart, yet cast aside your heart's freedom?
The Other faced Marluxia for the last time, one last mirror to shatter in this tower of illusion.
You turn from the truth because your heart is weak…
“I’m not Sora...” the insistence was fainter now, lingering harshly the name of one he’d never met in person, but whose whose leagues long shadow gave Roxas’ every action the insidious seed of imitation. Not even reflexive rage was able dull the rush of borrowed recollection, more vivid even then the aromas of this very garden within which he stood. Memory tumbled in till his skull burned.
With a start, Roxas realized that he was actually furious with Marluxia for taking Naminé, messing with his memory, with Riku…all sins XI had committed against his Other.They shouldn’t mean anything, had no reason to make his blood flow quick and hot through raised veins.
But they did.
The subtle betrayal by his own passions brought a feeling of nausea through Roxas, as if he’d looked down to see his own right hand moving on its own accord gripping a blood-stained knife. Questions alighted upon the wings of existential insecurity, a pressing flock of multiplying doubts. Did he distrust Marluxia because he was a killer, or because Sora hated the Organization and perhaps Marluxia most of all? Did he care for Naminé, long to find her, because of their promise or just because she was another prize Sora had sought and lost? Did Marluxia calling Roxas the Keyblade’s Chosen bring on pride because...
No gotta stop, he'd go crazy.
Realizing that advancing so aggressively towards the back of the infamous Graceful Assassin ranked high on the ‘final mistakes’ list, Roxas stopped on the bottom step. The account of a star-faring life unmoored from relations, time, or even context, reached Roxas as he attempted to master himself. Fury faded into the melancholic evocation of those few sentences, an ocean of lights in vast darkness robbed of significance by the ravages of Lethe. Roxas was struck with the instinct that Marluxia was old inside, superannuated in ways that defied linearity. How? Why? He couldn’t say, but the impression lingered, along with …
“Lonely,” he voiced slowly, sympathy defying rationality just when he need the later most. “Sounds really lonely.”
The wind’s touch was gentle he descended the last step, ruffling blonde hair and humble fabrics. On its current came the perfume of cherries, petals, and the words to voice his gut sensation better.
“The petals,” Roxas ventured, struggling through his thoughts. “They’re …us aren’t they?” Blue eyes watched the breeze pluck drifting softness by Marluxia, toying with the fragile pieces briefly captured in his hand. “Everybody ‘round you, fading away.”
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Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2018 12:16:51 GMT -5
[attr="class","lcontainer"] [attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","lplate"] [attr="class","lpik"] [attr="class","ltextholder"] [attr="class","ltext1"]To cling to hearts... [attr="class","ltext2"]Is to cling to the ugliness...of ourselves [attr="class","lscroll"]
So much anger. So much hate inside the boys eyes. He had struck a nerve and the kid seemed ready to try and struggle him, yelling at him hat what he said was a lie! Of course, how much Roxas would deny it.. he would always be connected to Sora. Always.. it didn’t matter how much he would stab someone that speaks it out. It didn’t matter how much Roxas wished for it to be just empty words. The kid had gone silent, fighting his own battle as Marluxia continued to admire the surroundings how it seemed. A place of such beauty created for the dead. It almost felt like it was created for HIM, almost, but of course it wasn’t. No one would build anything for the assassin and that thought made a smile creep on his face.
However, what dragged him out of his thoughts was when the kid started to talk again, a strange feeling setting in Marluxia stomach, as he lowered his head a little, a shadow cast over his eyes. Lonely? Maybe. But Marluxia never cared. What had seemed to make time slow down for him was Roxas referring to them as petals in the wind, scatter into all directions with nothing to hold on. A strange silence set between them, the birds suddenly having stopped singing as they felt the temperature seeming to drop all of the sudden.
Marluxia.. started to laugh. At first it was nothing more but a chuckle, but it was getting louder, almost reaching something close to insanity as he continued, his hand holding onto his face.
“HILARIOUS! Bitterly amusing!”, he would continue to laugh, not able to stop himself.
“YOU telling me we are the same?! We are NOTHING alike, Roxas!”
He suddenly vanished in a flash of petals, reappearing in front of Roxas and grabbing him by his collar, pulling him up into the air like he was nothing more but a feather. The cold expression on his face, those dead features with a smirk just as empty plastered on his face was a true sight of nightmares for many people most likely.
“You.. know nothing. Nothing, you hear me?”
Roxas didn’t know him. He didn’t know what Marluxia wanted. He didn’t know what he desired. He didn’t know what torture he was going through right now and he never will. Marluxia had come here to mess with the child, but he had crossed the line, trying to play as if he wanted to know him better... playing as if he was able to see through him, wanting something to be there that just isn’t!
Did he know what it felt like to slowly lose yourself to the darkness that has been planted in his heart? Did he know what it is like to be unable to change what fate has turned you into? His eyes suddenly flickered, the colour seeming to turn into an amber very similar to that of Xehanort’s.
“What.. did you think there is any good within me? Is that why you are trying to connect to my heart with those words of sympathy? I don't have a heart!!”
He was lying..
[attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","vansig"]✚Curio [googlefont="Lobster|Niconne|Raleway"] [newclass=.lcontainer]width:360px;background:#ccc;padding:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lplate]padding:10px;background:#111;padding:20px 0px 20px 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lpik]height:100px;width:100px;background:#ccc;float:center;border-radius:100%;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltextholder]height:30px;width;margin-top:-22px[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext1]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:1;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:30px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext2]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:0;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:24px;margin-top:-28px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext2]opacity:1;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lgrey]height:50px;background:#222;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare1]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare2]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:right;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll]height:300px;background:#111;text-align:justify;color:white;overflow:auto;padding:20px;line-height:15px;font-family:Raleway;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar]width:4px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]width:4px;background:#fff;[/newclass]
Lauriam used Teleport to appear in front of Roxas and pull him into the air @tapir |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2018 16:35:07 GMT -5
Looking down into eyes blue as a sailor’s grave, dangling nearly half-again his own height above the shrine steps, Roxas was faced with the price of messianic hubris
He squirmed and struggled in the larger man’s grip, baring gritted teeth as Maxluxia’s mocking laughter became tinged with the blooming seeds of madness. It was the lunacy that whispers soft susurrus in long moonlit hours when sleep has fled. In feverish darkness one counts the spaces between labored heartbeats, imagining them growing longer and ever more dreadfully profound. While Roxas knew the torments Marluxia could inflict with serrated edges and burrowing thorns, and dreaded the final silence that followed as much as the next guy, there was something debased in that manic mockery of human kinship that gave the boy a more chilling pause then torture or death.
Roxas’ survival instincts screamed at him to do something, call Oblivion and Oathkeeper to him, focus errant photons into vivisecting fury. But his rational mind, the same one trained by Marluxia to quickly consider the branching corridors of combat and eliminate the chaff, noted the futility. It would take his ex-weaponmaster far less time to snap Roxas’ neck then for his keyblades to materialize, or to start the mental gymnastics of photokinesis
Besides, there were petals everywhere here, blown by the breeze into the folds of their clothes and hair. A word from Marluxia, and that feather-light blossom tickling Roxas’ ear right now punched through his skull like a gunshot.
This was bad, …like…really bad
But then The Change over Marluxia, like the shadow of a raptor’s wings falling over a prairie and all the small thudding heartbeats taking shelter below. It was just for a brief second, short enough to entertain the prospect of it being just a trick of fading light, but Roxas’ Heart said otherwise. The amber malady, flickering like some sentient jaundice in Maluxia’s eyes, was familiar in a bone deep way.
He remembered watching it claim Riku, a seeping sickness contracted at the world’s edge. In that moment, Sora’s anguish overwhelmed Roxas’ personal hatred for the platinum-haired warrior, that betrayal of desperate hope. Yet, there was also a deeper memory, reaching from the darkness beneath sleep. There’d been another guy, tall, brown haired, invincible until he’d crumbled. Roxas inwardly reeled from the loss of a friend he’d never known. The pain of his own separation from Sora flooded into that amnesiac confusion, drowning out everything with the agony of being ripped out from inside himself as golden eyes gazed on with a surgeon’s dispassion.
Roxas’ right hand gripped Marluxia’s wrist, as if to continue struggling or give his possible murderer reassurance. Maybe both? More honestly, it was probably just a random reflex, or so Roxas told himself. “Look Marluxia…,” he managed finally, struggling to get the words out while gripped off his feet. “Even if there’s not good in you,” Roxas wasn't fully convinced, but didn’t find it prudent to press the point right now. “You’re still you, not Him.”
Right?
Blonde eyebrows rose at the last claim, soft dubiety cast in azure.
“Can’t hurt without a heart”
@leonard
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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2018 3:33:35 GMT -5
[attr="class","lcontainer"] [attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","lplate"] [attr="class","lpik"] [attr="class","ltextholder"] [attr="class","ltext1"]To cling to hearts... [attr="class","ltext2"]Is to cling to the ugliness...of ourselves [attr="class","lscroll"]
Roxas was struggling in his arms, trying to wiggle himself out of his grip, but it was futile. Why didn't he draw his blades? Why didn't he free himself with them? Why was the child hesitating?! Marluxia stared into his eyes, watching those 'emotions' ghost over his face. What was he thinking about? Why couldn't he still be able to form someones memories to his liking? Roxas could be a good adition to the organization, but somehow he knew that this boy was not worth of a place in the thirteen. How he knew that, was beyond him... A hand gripped his wrist, holding onto it as Roxas continued to stare into his eyes, finally able to open his mouth. Marluxia had expected for the kid to start insulting him or whatever... not for the kid to start talking to him almost calmly. Marluxia's eyebrow moved up, his face however not changing, the cold emptiness staying plastered on it.
He was still himself..? What was the child talking about?
It took Marluxia a moment before his grip on the others collar tightened, a chuckle escaping his lips.
“Foolish boy.”, he chuckled. “If I destroy you right now, there is one less keyblade we will have to worry about. You should better defend yourself than to try and talk to-”
However, he suddenly stopped, his eyes narrowing once more, before he suddenly threw the kid on the stairs. Marluixia suddenly stared on his hand that had held the kid, seeing that it was shaking. Why.. was he hesitating? Why had he done this? Why was he here in the first place?
The assassin shook his head slightly, his eyes moving up to look at Roxas again. What had just happened to him? Had he really said that that was what 'they' wanted? No.. this is not what he desired. He desired something else.. his own goals. The realization made him gritted his teeth.. he was losing himself... Xehanort's curse was taking him. First he stole his heart and now this? Marluxia.. no.. Lauriam would never beg for help. He would never ask someone to free him and what would it matter? Xehanort would find him again and turn him once more, or erase him completely anyway. What option.. did he have?
They keyblade.. the weapon he once so desired had done this to him. Roxas possessed one himself, so maybe he could release Xehanort's fragment from his body again before it was to late? But why would Roxas do that and the bigger question: WHY would he ask him directly to do so?! They were enemies! The inner struggle had made Marluxia completely un-moving, his eyes still fixed on his shaking hand. He had accepted his defeat.. but maybe that was also Xehanort's essence telling him to do so. What were still his own thoughts and what those of the fragment inside of him talking?!
“The keyblade...”, he murmured, extending his hand into the kid's direction in hopes of again grabbing him by his throat.
“I order you to destroy his essence. Obey me.”
[attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","vansig"]✚Curio [googlefont="Lobster|Niconne|Raleway"] [newclass=.lcontainer]width:360px;background:#ccc;padding:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lplate]padding:10px;background:#111;padding:20px 0px 20px 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lpik]height:100px;width:100px;background:#ccc;float:center;border-radius:100%;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltextholder]height:30px;width;margin-top:-22px[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext1]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:1;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:30px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext2]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:0;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:24px;margin-top:-28px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext2]opacity:1;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lgrey]height:50px;background:#222;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare1]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare2]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:right;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll]height:300px;background:#111;text-align:justify;color:white;overflow:auto;padding:20px;line-height:15px;font-family:Raleway;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar]width:4px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]width:4px;background:#fff;[/newclass] @tapir |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 10, 2018 14:03:23 GMT -5
This time Roxas was ready for the jugular grapple. A hand spring backward tumbled him inelegantly onto the shrine’s top step. His spine ached from where’d he’d impacted geometric stone right between the vertebrae after being thrown. But pain brought anger, a vein-deep warmth that banished the paralysis of fear as wine banishes cold. Roxas was in a fighting crouch atop the shrine before the thought even became conscious. The edifice’s jade dragon seemed to eclipse the almost set-sun, its serpentine length casting an unsettling twilight silhouette down on Marluxia, lending him an inhuman aspect from where Roxas stood.
Oblivion and Oathkeeper shimmering into existence, delicate mithril filigree and cruel ebon iron warm in his palms like the touch of old friends. Their weight was reassuring, even if safety was far too strong a word. Marluxia’s slip in self-reference hadn’t escaped him. He was loosing it in ways deeper then creepy irises, and Roxas’d been a dumbass to play along as long as he had…
“Don’t take orders from you!” Roxas snapped back, a scowl furrowing his brows. “Not one of your puppets Marluxia! And if you….”
It was about then Roxas’ head caught up with mouth. Gritted teeth and a glare were gradually softened by uncertainty, though he kept a guarded stance. If he got this right, Marluxia was asking for Roxas to destroy the part of Xehanort in him. Like …was that even possible? Keyblades could unlock anything sure, but this was some complicated stuff here. Roxas’d really only been trained to kill things, not heal Hearts.
Besides, even if he could, why risk it? He didn’t owe Marluxia anything! He was a threat to pretty much everyone Roxas still cared about. Smart thing to do would be for him to conjure an Event Horizon as a distraction and then Corridor the hell out of here!
Even after his brain had concluded all this, Roxas’s body didn’t move to obey.
Yeah maybe, Marluxia did deserve death he supposed…
But did he deserve this, to be overwritten by somebody else, to be annihilated?
Sora's Nobody grimaced as the thought came too close for comfort.
Does anyone deserve that?
“ Kay look,” He began cautiously, descending the steps while trying to ignore his brain screaming that this was a trap. “Even if I can, this is…really dangerous.” The garden had succumbed to the shroud of night, cornucopia of hues succumbing to the subtle distillations of obscurity. Sky blue eyes inquired up at Marluxia, asking for something more then resolve.
“You could die, or worse.”
@leonard
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Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2018 14:24:40 GMT -5
[attr="class","lcontainer"] [attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","lplate"] [attr="class","lpik"] [attr="class","ltextholder"] [attr="class","ltext1"]To cling to hearts... [attr="class","ltext2"]Is to cling to the ugliness...of ourselves [attr="class","lscroll"]
The boy had drawn his weapons and was ready to fight him? Of course.. Roxas was no longer part of the organization. He was no longer completely oblivious to his surroundings, that Marluxia saw in his eyes. The puppet was long gone... he would not listen to Marluxia anymore. His hand was still outstretched, though he had moved it back when he saw the two blades in the kid's hands, ready to slice at him should he get to close. What was the child waiting for? Why was he not attacking? His eyes stared into those of the kid, both exchanging glances in silence for some time, before the expression on Roxas's face seemed to shift. Was that... pity he spotted?
Marluxia's arm slowly moved back to the side of his body where it belonged, his emotionless face seeming to be frozen as he listened to the kids words. The boy was ready to aid him, saying that it could kill him however and that it was dangerous. To be honest, Marluxia.. no.. Lauriam didn't care if there was a chance of his death. Death meant nothing to him right now... If Xehanort really needed him, he would find a way to bring him back and return to torture his soul. He had done the same with Xigbar and Terra after all. There were many more keybladers outside of this world and many more options he could try to take, but he had chosen Roxas today to try and get the fragment out of his essence. Why the boy? It was.. a strange scent of Deja Vu that had told him to use the kid. The assassin held a lot of pride in his soul and for him this was a stab right into it, but... his time.. his time was running out. He was loosing himself, the Seed that had been planted in his heart blooming and eating away on him like a parasite. All his dreams and goals would soon vanish from his mind and he would not just betray Larxene, but also himself.
Marluxia continued to stare at the boy, seeming to try and find words that were fitting to reply to the kid. “Do you really believe I am still afraid of death?”, he would suddenly say with that soft voice having returned to him. “I hold the scythe to take souls with my own hands. If I am destined to die, than I will die as myself, not as a puppet.”
There it was. Lauriam's own words have reached through the darkness and reached the boy. It hurt to tell him this, but when the kid release him, he would be free again.. he was to kindhearted.. to stuck with Sora's believes to not try and get him out. Besides... Marluxia could easily beat him up and force him to do it if he had to.
[attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","vansig"]✚Curio [googlefont="Lobster|Niconne|Raleway"] [newclass=.lcontainer]width:360px;background:#ccc;padding:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lplate]padding:10px;background:#111;padding:20px 0px 20px 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lpik]height:100px;width:100px;background:#ccc;float:center;border-radius:100%;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltextholder]height:30px;width;margin-top:-22px[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext1]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:1;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:30px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext2]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:0;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:24px;margin-top:-28px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext2]opacity:1;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lgrey]height:50px;background:#222;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare1]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare2]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:right;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll]height:300px;background:#111;text-align:justify;color:white;overflow:auto;padding:20px;line-height:15px;font-family:Raleway;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar]width:4px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]width:4px;background:#fff;[/newclass] @tapir |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2018 4:28:11 GMT -5
‘It’s all cool, death doesn’t matter,’ wasn’t exactly a surprising response given the source, but still held little comfort. Number thirteen had seen some ‘tough types’ in his short life, been entreated to ‘do his worst’ because they weren’t afraid of death. Nine times out of ten, it was all talk, bravado that erred too far on the side of the bombast. Once things got bloody and existence reached a razor’s edge, the truth usually came out. Light longed for Life. The heart defied the void with every heartbeat, and confessing the need to keep fighting for breath carried no shame, quarter Roxas quietly granted with rare exception.
Yes he loved fighting, savored the adrenaline and thrill of it, far from an uncommon predilection in the Castle that Never Was. But Roxas’ transgression had been mercy, a distaste for slaughter antithetical to truly being Nobody. Roxas did what he had too, and yeah, that’d included stuff he’d really rather have remained forgotten in the Simulation. Even if Marluxia was one of those rare guys Roxas actually one hundred believed wasn’t afraid of death, that didn’t make this ok. Yeah, potentially adding a nihilistic killer to the faces Roxas saw in long late hours really shouldn’t bother him so much, but his Heart said otherwise.
Yet, that soft last request stilled Roxas’ mounting qualms. To die as only yourself and no other … how could Roxas deny him that?
Finding no excuse of any integrity, Roxas’ shoes left the last step to settle on the garden cobblestones. Wondering if he’d just been lured from the high ground like the world’s biggest freakin sucker, the young keyblader swallowed down prudence and nodded to the recipient of rough mercy.
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I can respect that.”
Pale petals drifted like a flights of ghosts on the nightfall breeze. They swirled through gaps in contoured greenery and ornate bridges now reduced the stark black outlines in the obscurity of the rising dark. The tranquil garden seemed to mirror Roxas’ own certainty, serene diversion giving way to vagarious error without the sun’s guidance. In the center of it stood Marluxia, an unexpected blast from the past Roxas’ wished surrender to incense and quietude. All that separated them was five feet empty of all but a passing haze of blossoms, their touch against Roxas’s eyelashes and cheek having no more weight then godless prayers.
The first step was the hardest. The rest flowed in a rush as resolve filled the void of understanding. Oblivion and Oathkeeper crested in blurred pearlite and stygian arcs, but met no resistance, passing through skin, sinew, and bone like it was nothing more then mist. It was spirit not flesh that bled. Light rushed outward like water released from a dike, inundating Roxas’ world in roseate fire and the sensation of falling…
@leonard
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Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2018 6:31:12 GMT -5
[attr="class","lcontainer"] [attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","lplate"] [attr="class","lpik"] [attr="class","ltextholder"] [attr="class","ltext1"]To cling to hearts... [attr="class","ltext2"]Is to cling to the ugliness...of ourselves [attr="class","lscroll"]
Marluxia had already faced death twice now in a way.. no, three times, counting Xehanort stealing his heart and forcing this disgusting fragment inside his chest. The only thing Marluxia truly could call something he 'feared' was dying as a puppet of someones plans. There was something he wanted to achieve... something he dreamed about that he wanted to make reality and nothing would truly destroy him before he would reach it, or that is at least what he always reminded himself about. Would Xehanort's fragment take over him completely, this dream would vanish from his grasp forever... He would only try to achieve what Xehanort thought was right and THIS- Knowing that he could lose everything because of it – was what truly would make him feel fear.
He saw that Roxas was not completely okey with his words, but the boy did draw his weapons after all in the end. One would of course think about the possibility of this boy to not try and save him, but slay him right here and now. That thought also crossed Marluxia's mind, but something told him the kid would not go through with erasing him. It was this strange stinging in the back of his mind that reminded him.... a strange sensation he could not put his finger on, but it was there.
As the blade made contact to his torso, the strange sensation of his essence being cut would rise up to his consciousness, his eyes widening for a moment, before the light would spread from his chest, a darkness falling over his eyes shortly after as he was called into his own heart.
Roxas would land on a plateau, similar to the one of his own dive to the heart, but it was cracked and the image on it clouded by darkness, so there wasn't much to see, except a few foggy faces and shaped. Marluxia's true self, Lauriam, was hanging in the air over it, struggling against the chains of darkness that have formed on his soul, squishing his body and choking him. The dark orb above they came from was also the source of the darkness that ate away on the image of his heart under Lauriam's body. The Darkness was strong, taking him away piece by piece slowly. Lauriam's eyes moved down to look at Roxas's shape.
“You.. didn't kill me... Now.. set me free.”
[attr="class","lgrey"] [attr="class","lsquare1"] [attr="class","lsquare2"] [attr="class","vansig"]✚Curio [googlefont="Lobster|Niconne|Raleway"] [newclass=.lcontainer]width:360px;background:#ccc;padding:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lplate]padding:10px;background:#111;padding:20px 0px 20px 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lpik]height:100px;width:100px;background:#ccc;float:center;border-radius:100%;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltextholder]height:30px;width;margin-top:-22px[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext1]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:1;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:30px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.ltext2]height:30px;font-family:Niconne;opacity:0;color:white;transition:1s;font-size:24px;margin-top:-28px;text-shadow:-1px 0 #000, 0 1px #000, 1px 0 #000, 0 -1px #000;margin-left:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lcontainer:hover .ltext2]opacity:1;transition:1s;[/newclass] [newclass=.lgrey]height:50px;background:#222;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare1]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.lsquare2]width:40px;height:40px;padding:5px;background:#111;float:right;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll]height:300px;background:#111;text-align:justify;color:white;overflow:auto;padding:20px;line-height:15px;font-family:Raleway;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar]width:4px;[/newclass] [newclass=.lscroll::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]width:4px;background:#fff;[/newclass] @tapir |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2018 3:19:55 GMT -5
Roxas recognized the voice that shook him from the stupor of descent, but not quite in the way he expected. Not yet having the cognizance to sort out that fleeting mental blip, the keyblader blinked blearily at the corroded glass beneath his hands. This Heart’s mural was not the cathedral-like resplendence Roxas had often encountered in the space between dreams and lucidity. It reminded him more of the metal bearings on a pier, eroded beyond recognition by time and relentless tides.
While clambering up to his feet, an alien weight and off-feeling caused Roxas to glance down at his own clothes. The colors were familiar, a vest and pants alternating between black, red, and white in ways that’d always seemed to right to his eye. However the cut of these clothes of more austere, reminding Roxas of a uniform. This impression was reinforced by the presence of armor under the shirt and over his left shoulder, welded in interlocking plates from a lightweight metal he couldn’t name. Similarly girded boots made his steps feel awkward and eerily loud on the glass. Roxas, by now a veteran of the peculiar, was not unnerved by the garments' unusualness, by rather had they felt…right. They were unlike anything he’d seen, but somehow Roxas knew they’d not been made in land Twilight but of Dawn, woven where’d the sun’s Light was born whole, …Home.
Roxas, who’d had neither birth nor home, frowned at the impossible conclusion. Yet though his Heart said no more on the matter, it refused to recant.
His eyes followed the voice that’d greeted him up, where Marluxia hung in the void like a carcass strewn up in a butcher’s shop.
“Lauriam…”
It’d not been the name in Roxas’ thoughts when he’d started to speak, but the syllables didn’t feel like a mistake. A sense od purpose kept the boy from balking at the mismatch. That sphere up there had this guy like a boa-constrictor, crushing and ingesting his totality like an egophagic disease. Lauriam (again that name?) was still struggling, a good sign, but the wasteland of abraded glaze under Roxas’ feet rendered that grim solace.
“Kay, on it.”
Roxas’ lips began to move inaudibly as incantation and ritualized mental visualization open the inner gate of sorcery. In this place devoid of physical light, the fledgling magician had to substitute fond recollections of sunsets in place of photons, evoke inner radiance from laughter filled evenings atop a secret tower-top paradise. Lifeforce became thirteen lucent pillars; vertical cruciform blades toped by the spade and thorns that’d become the signature of Nobodies . They shone like lighthouses at the edge of this annular island silent in its sea of void, guiding nothing into nowhere.
With shifting of feet and a final phrase of release, Roxas swung Oblivion and Oathkeeper in wide counter-crossing arcs, cresting their path upward to avoid where Larium hung. As if each sweep were a conductor’s insistent baton, coruscating colonnades streaked across the faded platform to slam into pythonic chains like welder torches given concussive force. Thirteen slashes sent ravenous radiance into ebon metal, seeking to eat it away in molten brightness.
1) Roxas used Event Horizon on Chains, 0/3
@leonard
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