thirteenth.

AFFILIATED ROXAS. indie friendly (private & selective). written by shvon. [ app • rules • stats ]

[nobodkey-blog]

jardinia‌.

EVENT CLOSED: @nobodkey

║✎║: At some point she had been separated from Kairi, and in her attempts to relocate the girl, Naminé found herself at the beach instead. Normally she would take her place right at the shoreline, and spend hours upon hours recreating its image on paper. Who knew this welcoming place would now instill fear in her?

Ignoring the gorgeous scenery that beckoned her, she resorted to keeping herself concealed from unwanted attention–The injury to her head convinced her to avoid stumbling through the ward so carelessly. Peeking from behind the nearest trash can, her observant gaze immediately spotted several of cat balloons floating innocently in a cluster. 

Nervous eyes flickering to and fro for any potential threats, she cautiously advanced towards it. Yet blinded by her determination, unaware was she at the fact that another aimed for the same target. Before she could even close the distance, the balloons spontaneously burst into smithereens.

Frustrated and sadden by the sight, she released a hopeless sigh. The air of defeat would be temporary as she was confronted by the unknown individual that popped the balloons. She greeted him with a conflicted expression as different emotions overwhelmed her thoughts. Her voice small and barely audible, the immense shock that clung to her shoulders permitted her to only say his name.

“…Roxas?”

He’d finally managed to make it back to his apartment and grabbed his wooden Keyblade, at some point. No more having to deal with pummeling the balloon with his bare fists, at least.

And he’d debated -- he’d really thought about it -- just not leaving to head back out into the fray. What did he have to gain? It wasn’t like he didn’t have any points. But he didn’t really know what having just some points would entail, or what would happen if he didn’t keep making an active effort to build them up.

What else did he have to do while this was happening, anyway? He couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t do anything fun.

So back out into the mess of balloons and combat he went.

He’d been popping them without care -- probably should’ve been paying more attention to the black balloons than he was -- and only stopped at the sudden sight of someone appearing in his peripheral vision with the last pop of the balloon he’d swung at.

Roxas’ head turned to see who it was, ready to defend himself if need be... only to be caught up just staring for a moment as he processed who, exactly, he was looking at.

And then that someone said his name.

“N... Naminé!”

For the first time in a long while, Roxas seemed to light up.

“You’re--is it really you?”

[nobodkey-blog]

inanum‌.

The person was still under his foot, and some complaint could be heard as his foot instinctively tried to plant itself deeper into the ground. As expected, resistance. 

As if out of reflex, the mask of sadness that didn’t exist fell over his body. Something about this stung a little–damned emotion. Despite that, diffusing the situation, feelings or not, was what was ideal for completing the objective.

“You misunderstand why I’m here, Roxas….Would it do me any good to let another Organization member fall to unpreparedness?”His head tilted, a hand at his chest. He really seemed hurt. “You really think I’d just try to fistfight a teen in this state?” (Roxas probably thought that, truly, but he needed to reinforce how powerless he was here)

His foot lifted, and the guy scrambled out with little haste. Tactically speaking, he could probably leave Roxas alone and he’d find someone else to assist him, there was no need to stick around where his presence would only bring infighting. But seeing him, specifically, dealing with all this on his own awoke this body’s old dormant reflexes just enough that he found himself scowling at the mere thought of wanting to stick around and helping someone that didn’t want his help.

(Thanks a lot, you keybladed fool.)

“Two sets of hands are better than one, are they not? Of course, if you still refuse my assistance, that’s fine.”

“I’m not a member of the Organization.” Roxas really couldn’t care less if Xemnas was hurt. He would just be faking it all anyway -- it wasn’t like Xemnas knew anything. Knew any of what it was like to feel pain. What did he have to hurt over, anyway? All Xemnas did was cause hurt, and he--he--!

He didn’t know what Xemnas would try to do. That involved fistfighting a teen. So maybe he couldn’t turn into a giant... castle dragon or whatever. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t still fistfight some kid.

It didn’t matter, really, that the wannabe-assailant had left now. Anyone else might have thanked Xemnas -- all anger aside -- and moved on with their life. No such gratitude left Roxas’ lips.

He hadn’t lowered his fists, either.

“That’s--shut up!” Xemnas had a point, and Roxas hated that. “Even if two hands were better, it’s not better when they’re yours.”

He didn’t trust turning his back on Xemnas. So Roxas started walking away with a few very pointed, backwards steps, only to slip on the remains of a popped balloon and stumble backwards and fall over onto his back.

Great!

[nobodkey-blog]

nuehopes‌.

This place was beyond strange.

He had wandered too far, drawn in by the sights – and there were so very many of them, differing from Ward to Ward, indicating that the predominant cultures in this place were as varied as the landmarks (a melting pot of some kind?) – too far, such that a mysterious watch had bound itself upon his wrist, one that a few moments of attempting to pry it off were useless against.

He’d deal with that later, then.

There were yells and screams, and not the pleasant kind, though he didn’t see anybody for a block or two; he had the toy boomerang in hand, even though it would probably be useless in a real fight.

Turning a corner, he stumbled onto a youth locked in combat with… balloons?

Weird.

But some black ones approached the boy from behind even as he dealt with the white ones in front, and Hope didn’t hesitate. With firm fingers he hurled his boomerang, dispatching the handful of creatures behind the youth and catching the returning weapon with a soft noise. It was hardly as airworthy as his Airwing, but at least it’d get the job done for now.

“May I ask you a question?” he started, approaching the youth with a light jog before more creatures could pop up around them. He didn’t wait for an answer. “What’s going on around here?”

@nobodkey

He’d gotten himself ambushed, unfortunately.

There was only so much strength he could muster to pop the calloons with his Woodblade, and with too many of them around him at any given point it was a struggle to try to clear the area. He’d been focused on a patch of white ones, trying to float away from him as they were, that clearly he’d let his guard down.

He heard them popping before he realized there were even any black calloons behind him.

Roxas whirled around to see the source of the popping, readying himself to attack if the person in question who had done so was anything to be wary of. He’d had his fair share of bad experiences in this ball(oon) pit mess already.

“You kinda already di--”

Oh, yeah, okay. Go on without waiting for him to reply, then. Kind of defeated the purpose of asking if you could ask, didn’t it? Rude. Maybe he didn’t want to answer. What did he look like, an information desk?

So Roxas stared blankly for a moment.

“Uh, you mean the balloons in general, or why I’m whacking them with the equivalent of a large stick?”

Roxas, that’s not a stick.

“‘cause it’s not normally like this. Some cat went wild and now there are sentient balloons everywhere and we have to pop them, I guess.” A pause. “I really can’t make it any clearer than that.”

[nobodkey-blog]

inanum‌.

@nobodkey, SC.

He wouldn’t have stepped in; honestly though he saw Roxas and recognized him, he knew all too well his once-subordinates weren’t happy to see him. But the world around him had other plans, one of the more daring competitors in the game attacking Roxas–and he didn’t draw a weapon.

Time to get dangerous.

Fist connected with the jaw of the assailant, and then a foot, securing the assailant to the ground. This wasn’t how Xemnas was used to fighting, but he had the physical brawn to pull it off, and he had nothing else on his person. No effort was spent on the person, his next words meant only for the other nobody.

“No weapon yourself? To think I thought I’d be punished…it seems the curators of this world are just careless.”

He’d left his Woodblade at home.

Of course he had. Of course when he thought it was fine to head out without it he got caught up in whatever this mess was. No wonder that’d be his luck, what with him getting dragged to this place to begin with.

So he’d been angry. Of course. And maybe he’d punched a couple of balloons. And maybe some of them were black, and maybe his points weren’t as good as they could be. But he’d made up his mind to head back to his apartment and get the Woodblade one way or another.

The city had other plans. Of course.

He’d been caught off guard -- someone trying to get the upper hand on him to no doubt steal his (less than impressive) points amount -- and barely had had any time to recover. He didn’t have any sort of weapon on him, and was readying to try and get some sort of punch off on the attacker--

--when someone got to them before him. Maybe someone who figured they’d knock out two birds with one stone, Roxas mused to himself at first, but it didn’t take him too long to tune more in on who exactly had come to his “rescue”.

“You--!” His fists had flown up instantly, ready to defend himself if needs be, voice practically a hiss. Anything Xemnas was saying had basically just gone in one ear and out the other. “If you think I’m just gonna lay down and let you wrap me up into whatever you have planned, you’re wrong.” A pause as he glanced to the assailant still pinned under Xemnas’ foot. “And I didn’t need you to deal with him.”

[nobodkey-blog]

levitersora‌.

Something felt off with his heart. As if something was temporarily missing. The thought didn’t dwell much longer as Sora stopped in front of a peculiar location. The area is familiar, a place the boy remembered when exploring to come back and visit. There was suppose to be some kind of underground castle or something along those lines around here, yet he couldn’t even figure out where to start looking. Having some help would be nice, or a way to drill underground and make his own entrance.

Though maybe it would be nice to have some kind of help. Back to thinking about the strange sense in his heart. “Why do I have the feeling something is missing again?” Sora had asked himself out loud, his heart taking back his attention instead of that secret castle. “I hope everything really is okay.” Eyes glance down as an empty feeling came over, unknown as to why the boy suddenly felt like this.

Until a voice broke his attention. A familiar voice. Someone he hadn’t heard from in a long time.

Sora quickly turn, blue eyes wide with surprise at the appearance of his Nobody standing before him. This wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t. This was real…!

“Roxas! You’re here…. like, here here!” The boy was surprise, gesturing to the other of his appearance of being here. Becoming his own person. Sora felt a mixture of surprise and excitement coursing through his body. This has to be why Sora’s heart felt out of place. it had to be because Roxas was here. Sora couldn’t help but laugh, happy to see Roxas standing in front of him. “I knew it! You were meant to be your own person, and here you are! You can finally be yourself, Roxas.” Finally as his own self. But he won’t let the other’s final comment slide.

“And what do you mean by trouble, you’re also stuck in this world just like I am.”

“... yeah, I’m... here.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get why Sora was so happy about all of this. It made sense, of course -- that was how Sora was. Had always been. But the exact hows and whys... those were things Roxas couldn’t wrap his head around. Maybe if he had a heart of his own he’d be able to make more sense of it, but he -- he just couldn’t. He couldn’t understand why any of this would matter.

“You should be more worried about this.”

It was meant to sound more scathing than it came off; whether he liked it or not, Sora’s excitement had gotten to him. Sora had laughed. Whatever melancholy had flooded Roxas’ soul just crushed down onto his shoulders with even more weight than before.

“I mean, look at us. If I’m here in front of you, that means I’m not...” ... with you. It hung unfinished in the air, and Roxas couldn’t stop himself from furrowing his brow. “This is the perfect chance for something bad to happen. I can’t believe you’d just be excited about that.”

That was a lie, though. Roxas could believe it. Of course Sora would look for the light at the end of the tunnel instead of being caught up in the mess that the tunnel was. And maybe, despite the gnawing something (worry?) deep in his chest, this wasn’t such a bad situation at all. Maybe Sora knew better than he did.

Maybe Roxas just wasn’t willing to believe that it could be a good thing, because he hadn’t earned it.

“I don’t know how much of myself there is to be.”

[nobodkey-blog]

lunadriven‌.

  There’s humor to be found in all of this… somewhere. Wherein the memories he carried, now, there was a growing bond between himself and a boy he once – well, partially still did – envied. They seemed almost like a dream considering how he came to recollect them, having been within this world for longer than he cared to admit. But it wasn’t just Isa that has been here, Saix had been, too – and there lies the hidden humor.

  The last meeting with Roxas, in this world, had been with Saix. A man that had come to be known for his anger, for the coldness he applied to everything… and for the jealousy that fueled his actions against those undeserving. He had acted out as expected last time, but to cross paths with him again, like this, there wasn’t a shred of rage that surfaced.

  Guilt took the place of that. Heavily.

  What state were the boys memories? Was it possible to hope he could recall a lighter time between them in a world more appropriate than this, or was that wishful thinking? Ah, he might almost laugh at himself over the thought. Since when was he the type to rely on a wish.

  It didn’t matter. The answer was clear the moment Roxas chose to speak up. Isa almost wished – there it was again – that, for just a moment, he could continue on as Saix. If only to avoid the sharp sting that pierced a still vulnerable chest.

  Where there was a gaze of gold that, once, could stare down anyone, an evasive set of greens now took their place.

    “… and you don’t have to.” 

  Perhaps, this was to be a better outcome; a more just outcome than what he had been given. A rage returned felt far more appropriate than quiet pity and understanding. So much had been done, had been said, all of it in his own voice or brought upon by his own hands. To expect anyone to forget it was a cruel joke.

    “Despite what you may believe, I would prefer you not forget… there’s been too much to simply wipe the slate clean,” I don’t deserve that. “–and it justifies your anger.”

  Saix. He had only recently begun coming to terms with hearing Isa again, yet he couldn’t bring himself to correct him. 

What?

This must have been some kind of trap, something Saix was trying to do to lure Roxas in to some false sense of security. Did he think he was stupid? He wasn’t going to fall for that. Why on earth would he fall for that!?

His teeth had clenched tightly together, his hand reaching for the wooden Keyblade kept at his waist in order to hold it out and aim it toward Saix. It wasn’t a very intimidating gesture, but it was all he had. Saix had said before, here, in this city, that he had no need for Roxas -- so why was he acting like this now?

Something had changed. Roxas didn’t trust that.

“--if this is to get to Sora, I won’t let you.”

“An act like this might work on him, but it won’t work on me.”

It was infuriating. None of it made any sense. This shift in everything, this total change of who--

-- “... you...”

He’d been so quick to anger that he hadn’t stopped to properly think things over, but -- perhaps faced with how dire the situation was if Saix lashed out at him again -- Roxas found himself abruptly stopping to mull things over, as quickly as he could, hoping he hadn’t let his guard down too much.

Saix had died once before, hadn’t he? Roxas knew that. When Axel had died, he...

“... explain yourself.”

He took a couple of steps forward, jutting the wood-blade forward to reinforce that he definitely had not changed his mind.

“Acting like this, looking like this -- that’s not just something you’d do, huh. Explain it, Saix.”

[nobodkey-blog]

          -- @lunadriven.

Okay, so Roxas definitely hadn’t gone out of his way to find Saix again. In fact, after the last time they’d met -- with Roxas nursing a sprained ankle for quite some time afterward as he realized far too belatedly that, in fact, he was not as strong here as he wanted to be -- he’d sworn even in all his anger to make sure to not cross Saix again. Not until he could do something about it.

So when fortune -- hah -- would have it that he would cross paths with Saix again...

Roxas swore then three things to himself.

One: he really had to find a way to get stronger.

Two: as much as he wanted to beat his face in, he probably shouldn’t provoke Saix.

Three: he should probably stop visiting Cotes.

But before he could think of what to actually do -- he was here because he wanted to be, and wasn’t about to back out because Saix didn’t know how to keep his nose out of Roxas’ business -- something caught his attention. He had fully been prepared to come up with a way to avoid Saix spotting him, but something was... off, at best... and really off, at worst.

This--wasn’t Saix.

Roxas had become far too memorized with the point of Saix’s ears and the yellow of his eyes. Those eyes had bore into him one too many times when he was within and without the Organization, and they had most certainly been yellow.

This man, as much as he was Saix in every other sense of the word... was not Saix.

Roxas hadn’t even last seen him that long ago. In that time, what had--?

“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at.” Ah, there went Step Two already. “But if you think changing your appearance up a little bit is going to have everyone forgetting what you did, you’d be wrong.”

The fact he had seemed to just... opt out of it all had the rage burning fiercer than ever in Roxas’ chest. It almost stung it burned so fiercely. For Axel, for--(there was someone else, wasn’t there? or maybe... there never had been)--for Sora--

“Whatever this is that you’re doing, I’m not buying any of it, Saix.”

[nobodkey-blog]

also i’ll update roxas to post-kh3 at... some point... i don’t know when i just like him being post-DDD right now. Conflict

also i get to have him not worrying so much abt sora

mostly i’m just using some icons from 3 because uhhhh baby is lazy and he has much less to icon in 3 than 2

[nobodkey-blog]

levitersora‌.

“... this isn’t a dream, right?”

“I don’t like the implications, if it is.”

[nobodkey-blog]

[memorys-skyscraper]

PLEASE look at the little jog Roxas does to get to Xion when she’s crying

[nobodkey-blog]

levitersora‌.

“It’s almost a fact that most silver hair guys fall to darkness. Everyone else with different color hair is okay.”

“But if guys with silver hair fall to the darkness... and guys with silver hair also are the darkness...”

“...then who’s piloting the gummi ship?”

[nobodkey-blog]

mentiors‌.

nobodkey replied to your post: “Nobody asked any of you guys anyway.”

no one asked you either so there :/

do you even go here?

so maybe i don’t! what of it

[nobodkey-blog]

“Huh, I think all of you guys are wrong.”

“Silver hair isn’t cool at all. People with silver hair are losers.”

[nobodkey-blog]

i was kinda worried i was having roxas say “huh?” too much but

i think i’m doing alright

[nobodkey-blog]

bloxkey‌.

@nobodkey liked for a starter

“Oh hey, it’s you!” The boy in the black coat- the one who he’d fought, right? Well, no- something seemed a little different. He was pretty sure that the other had gone to rest in his heart? So then, that didn’t make sense…. had someone re-programmed him into the datascape?

Well, it wasn’t much like Sora to spend much time worried about it- he’d think about the details later, once he could ask Mickey. “That reminds me, I never did get your name. I’m Sora- but I guess you knew that one already, huh?”

“... wha--?”

He’d met Sora here. Roxas had met Sora here, and he was--he was older than this, had known who Roxas was. This wasn’t the sort of situation Roxas had expected he’d be thrown into, and for a moment all he could do was stare dumbstruck for far longer than he probably should have.

Oh. He’d been asked a question.

“Yeah, uh, I’m--I’m Roxas.” His hand raised to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Was this some kind of trick? Should he be more on guard?

It seemed too sincere -- too genuinely Sora -- though.

That might have been what had a tinge of hurt unable to stop from creeping into his voice. “...you should have known that.”

[nobodkey-blog]

ok i’m gonna force myself to make more icons and then i’ll be grabbing stuff here