hell is asking to be loved

hank Naminé.

[suuketa]

seclusives

[suuketa]

  ❝Hhh-hey.. do y-you live here?❞ why else would she be in this district..maybe the same reason as him, who knows, ❝I-I have hot cocoa back at my place, and there you don’t have to wear these stupid masks, so.. I j-just don’t think a girl should live in this kind of place, y-y’know?❞ 

  ❝A-anyway.. you don’t have to if you don’t want to..but.. we have some with marshmallows.. s-some without.. with milk.. th-those are from the packets, though, I can make hot chocolate..i-instead..since it tastes better..❞

[seclusives]

The question catches her off guard, but he shifts quickly into an offer she can’t quite refuse. Predisposed as she is to solitude, it’s so generous and simple. How could she say no, when it seems so daunting for him to ask at all? Initially, she responds with a nod, both eyes smiling for her. 

“I’m not so sure anyone should... but it is a place to live.” Captive, again. Hard to complain after it’s already happened. “Hot chocolate? It sounds good.” He’s probably right, and she’s happy to tag along. “Of course I’ll come! So long as it really is okay with you.”

[rakuenfanatic-blog]

canvases .

Tranquility defines the atmosphere of the sixth sector. The park is pure simplicity with its centerpiece of a fountain coupled with soft breezes curving the corners, but it’s unprecedented beauty coming from their sadistic captors. In the moment, the citizens look to be far from the actual misery they reside in, and he finds himself wondering if this temporary peace was merely the heart of something awful to come.

As if on cue, he inwardly flinches from the rise of a sensation– there’s a girl, gentle in demeanor, sketching on a bench not too far from where he stands. His concern however, lays on the presence of magic (something foreign, dark but undefined, restricted but radiating all the same) that hid just beneath her softness, and if he’s right, maybe even her pencil.

“…”

Before offering so much as a greeting, he walks over to confirm his suspicions– placing his hand against the tip of her sketchbook. Nothing happens. There’s a pause, one surely more awkward than he realizes, before he would pull back, tone lightly apologetic to insist he meant no harm.

“Sorry,” he starts, meeting her presumably startled gaze, “I wasn’t trying to interrupt you, but I’d like to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”

seclusives

[seclusives]

Not unlike her somebody’s namesake, her strokes are unsteady as the sea. There are breaks in pressure and she’s forced to resort to other pencils while she shades, her best attempt to mimic blues and greens in harmony - for lack of a better word, fruitless. Not enough. A recurring theme in her bleak history, the reminder that some efforts will never amount to much insists on hanging over her head.

But another look at the unfinished sketch leaves her smiling, however bittersweet. It will be okay. And right up until a hand comes into contact with the pad at her lap, Naminé’s settled with both legs tucked underneath her. Any previous state of ease comes undone when she recoils a little, blinking twice.

Flashing the boy in question a look of blatant confusion, she grasps the book’s spine a little tighter. Already, she lost one — getting another would be something of a hassle. (Though she couldn’t say that she minds the train much, if at all.)

“It’s alright,” she assures, quieted by innate nervousness. “What is it?”

[seclusives]

✎ yourpromdate 

She knows that it’s best not to let her gaze linger on anything for too long-- it’s rude. Getting into trouble while she’s by herself probably isn’t the best idea, either, but this is a case by case scenario. Whoever this is definitely has a... creative side, though that might not be the best choice of words. 

Sheepish as the thrumming in both ears might make Naminé feel, an overactive mind speaks for her. F--- What the police? “What - um... What’s that for?”

[seclusives]

✎ vasterstrom

It’s all coming together, after what seems like hours (twenty minutes, tops). The scene is set: pale shades of blue are paired with vibrant greens and muted tan. Hive City looks nothing like Destiny Islands -- and her stomach twists, homesick. Palm trees scatter on both sides, and she fills in white space to the best of her ability. It isn’t until Naminé gets distracted, and starts on the shape and detail of a passerby that the artist realizes she’s been staring in an attempt to blend fantasy and reality.

“Oh-- I’m sorry! I wasn’t... I wasn’t thinking. If you’d like, you could keep this? It doesn’t matter what you do with it.” Hopefully she hasn’t invaded his privacy in any way -- and hopefully he won’t be too upset.

[quartzied-blog]

seclusives

Rose didn’t mean to intrude, but, spotting the art of the young girl out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but peer over the blonde’s shoulder. It was so lovely – the gem really did have a soft spot for the arts. 

“That’s really beautiful!”

[seclusives]

Concentrated entirely on her work, Naminé doesn’t notice the stranger looming behind until she hears them speak up. Alarmed, she turns and fights the urge to splay her open hands over the sketch. Inevitably, it’s hard to believe that someone so lovely would find something to admire in her drawing. 

“You-- you think so?” The compliment earns a run of pink across her cheeks, followed by the tiniest of smiles. “Thank you, miss. If it’s okay to say, you are as well!”

[prism-rain]

seclusives

[prism-rain]

It had been twelve years since she had been able to watch flowers bloom, and Aqua was mystified by this act of nature that she had previously taken for granted. Most of the flowers in sector six’s greenery were in full bloom, spare a few that had decided some days were still too overcast, cold and rainy.

Today, however, the sun was out and Aqua sat in a patch of grass in the forest clearing just outside the mansion, looking at some flowers that were just too shy to show their petals just yet. “C’mon, spring isn’t going to wait forever. Is today the day?” She realized that talking to a plant was more than a little silly–and anyone could happen by here and see– but talking to thin air as well as her self was one of the many habits of a decade past she had yet to fully break.

[seclusives]

Breathing in the flora clears her senses, despite the memories that follow some multicolored roses in particular. He’s gone now, she reminds herself-- but along with him, everyone else. Not necessarily at the same time, but still. Sora, Riku... Kairi. She hasn’t the slightest idea. 

But the warm voice of someone who feels familiar (maybe even more so than she should) steals her attention. Anyone speaking to flowers should be peaceful enough, right? (It wouldn’t be the first time that hope has clouded her judgement.) A soft smile ghosts along the curve of her mouth when Naminé approaches, caution in the way she grasps an elbow in one free hand. “They’re... beautiful, aren’t they? Even while they wait?” 

[magiciteblaster]

She had only been in the Epsilon District for a short amount of time, but she was there long enough to have already depleted her stock of ammo. Cater was able to scrap enough cash to refill her stock. She despised her BB gun. Her magicite pistol hardly ever had to be refilled. She would refill it with different types of magicite but that gave her gun different abilities and spells to use. These BB pellets were just…well plastic. Nothing more, nothing less. Now, instead of having her knapsack filled with magicite, it was now filled with items necessary to live in within the district. BB pellets, money, snacks etc. 

It was a simple mission; find a store that sells the ammo and go back to her small home. That was a rather difficult task for Cater. There were so many shops and areas within the district she didn’t know where to start! She wished she had a map to at least give her some kind of guidance around the area.  

With a frustrated sigh, she continued down yet another street filled with small shops. She was on the lookout for any shop that sold ammo but what she saw was something she’d never would’ve believed if heard. Off to the side, in an area that wasn’t really populated, was this dark circle. It was a dark corridor that looked like it could lead anyone to another dimension. What came out caused the cadet to do a double-take. 

A small - framed blonde girl stepped out of whatever the hell that dark void was. She started to walk as the the portal behind closed up and vanished. Cater just couldn’t comprehend what just happened. She just had to know how such a fragile looking girl was able to do that.

She didn’t care, she walked up to her and said, “How did you do that? Was that magic or something?” 

seclusives

[seclusives]

It’s hard enough adjusting to the separate areas and collecting herself after losing a part of her she’d only just regained… but to be caught in the middle of a dark corridor? She’d been planning on that significantly less. And even if she doesn’t pride herself on much, she’s not one for last minute business. It doesn’t suit her — causes too much of a panic. As if there’s not enough of that swimming around in her head, already.

The shadows dissipate in purple smoke, wispy haze stinging each of her lithe fingertips. From complete to incomplete… so much has happened in so little time. It seems less worth it, succumbing to natural concerns. She’s more likely to form a permanent crease in her forehead than to find Kairi sooner than later.

That thought falls over pale features with a tight press of her lips. Blatant distress melts away after a moment, though, benign and mild amusement taking its place. This girl is so utterly shellshocked by her method of transportation, limited or not, that Naminé can’t help but relax. While one hand tangles in loose strands of hair, the other hangs at her side.

“I—“ She feels better to have someone approach her, than the other way around. Easier to feel like less of a bother, or an inconvenience. “It just comes to me. More of a long story, but…” There’s already an apology itching at her tongue.

“Are you looking for something, too?”

[seclusives]

→ Blue skies can be seen quite clearly above District Zeta, he is somewhat surprised to note, as his feet lead him up into what appears to be a park. All his worldly (citta-ly?) possessions hang from a makeshift bag on his back, taken from a small shack in the district below his feet. The greenery up here seems relatively tame in comparision to what lurks in Zeta, and while he is more than capable of fending off carnivorous flora out to get him, it is nice to just watch the wind blow through the grass and trees without any threats… 

→ Which makes the sudden outburst of words below him all the more startling. The amount of kids he’s encountered alone in this city is already more than he’d like (he’d prefer none, thank you very much), and makes him wish that whatever way the people in charge of the city chose to bring people to Citta Alveare (as he learned from the many signs littered across Zeta’s many abandoned labs) wouldn’t choose kids. The young girl seems to be waiting for an answer, and as he rummages around in his pack for a few scraps of paper and a pen to write a response, he wonders how long she’s been here. 

→ I’m sorry, I have not. He crouches down to show her the paper, hesitating slightly before adding another sentence. May I ask who you are? I am Corazon.

It’s important to remind herself that she’s seen stranger -- on several occasions. Turning her attention to the offered sheet of tattered paper, Naminé parts her lips. If she’s consumed by worry now, more time she could spend looking for Kairi could go to waste. Not wanting to deliberate, she lets go of the thought that her somebody is anywhere close. She would be able to feel that, wouldn’t she?

She settles on the fact that she may as well appreciate the lack of hostility from this stranger. As always, it could be going much worse. Shifting her weight and easing up some, she takes a moment before responding. “You don’t have to apologize. Things will sort themselves out.” Odd, that she has more trouble convincing herself than anyone else and speaks the notion nonetheless. “But thank you for your help... My name is Naminé.

“It’s nice to meet you, though!”

[seclusives]

“Something to sketch with?” He looks over his shoulder, back at the young girl. She’s pretty, he thinks- reminds him of an older Renesmee. Her eyes are much bluer than Nessie’s ever were, though. His heart aches, but he tries to push her memory out of his mind.

“I saw an art supplies store in Sector 1. Would you like me to accompany you?” 

Following a swift nod, Naminé’s lower lip is tucked behind teeth. Would it be rude to say yes, or worse to decline? Unsurprising that indecision finds her and has both shoulders tense, hiking up just a notch. “Right! Colored pencils, crayons, anything would do.” An art supplies store? Shouldn’t she have already spotted something like that, out of sheer intuition?

“You wouldn’t mind? It’s... really easy to lose your way around here, isn’t it?”

[seclusives]

✎ unspiker

It’s somewhat uncomfortable to wear a gas mask, but Naminé’s not entirely sure if the toxic waste could physically harm half of a person. That said, she knows that she’s better safe than sorry. At least being away from the puddles of sludge and other unnamed messes eases her shoulders to some degree. When her path is cut short by a stranger, however, she can’t really help but blurt out the question ringing in her head.

“I don't mean to be a bother... Um, did you have to wear any protective masks where you live, too?” Curiosity makes her hands itchy to draw, to put something, anything on paper -- but there aren't exactly any opportunities for that as of now. “Strange - isn’t it?”

[seclusives]

✎ heart-of-law

After what feels like an eternity of inhaling smog and who knows what else, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Or... clear skies at the edge of this sector, at least. The sun is warm on her bare shoulders, and she’s almost tempted to stretch both arms until something... oh -- someone blocks it out? Unintentionally, but still.

And she thought members of the Organization were tall.

Her words tangle before she even thinks of what they might be. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen someone... that looks a little like me? About this tall --” she holds a hand up to the top of her head. “With red hair and a pink dress, would you?” Even if she can't find Kairi, at least this place is pleasant. Maybe this exceptionally tall man will have some answers, too. It wouldn't be wrong to hope, would it?

[seclusives]

hi 🙋 welcome 👋 2⃣ chilis🍝 send this ✉️ to 2⃣5⃣ hot 🔥 spicy 🔥 ladies 👩💗 that you 👉 dont 🙅want to lose ❤️❤️❤️

[seclusives]

✎ classclownzero

Oddly enough, Naminé can’t tell if it’s for better or worse that she’s well enough adjusted to being tossed in unfamiliar environments. Being held hostage in a castle with white walls and floors all nearly identical might be the only thing worse than so many sectors with such different frameworks.

But... she’s not at all expecting the first stop. 

The area isn’t a far cry from intimidating, and there’s a loud thrumming in both ears -- a frantic tattoo that tells her to pick up the pace. As fast as her legs can go without breaking into a run, Naminé takes one too many nervous strides when what sounds like a gun fires in the distance. This really wasn’t the right place to step off of the train. It just so happens that she turns at exactly the wrong time, and her forehead falls into the space between shoulder blades. “I’m so sorry!” 

Reeling back, she pulls both arms toward her. “Are you alright? D--did you hear that?”

[seclusives]

✎ sinisternocturne

After a little reflection, Naminé decides it's probably for the best that she gets at least some gist of her surroundings. Remaining in the district she’s to live in at all times? She has trouble just thinking of the headache that would follow suit. Hopefully it won’t be too terrible a bother if she taps on the shoulder of someone out here -- and she does, breath stuck in her throat -- for the name of this location. Spending a bit too long on a train is disorienting, even if it does remind her of home. Wherever that was.

“Oh...” He looks like someone from a painting. “I don’t mean to interrupt -- I’m just,” lost. "Do you know anywhere someone might find something to sketch with around this place?"

[seclusives]

hello!!

i just caught a terrible cold but i’d really like to get started on nami so go ahead and like for a starter! i’ll cap at 3 so i don’t get too overwhelmed but that won’t apply to any castmates.. or if you message me and we get some sort of plot going, that works too!

[asbrightandbrief]

seclusives started following you

Whether it was a familiar face to her or not, Red Ranger definitely knew the essence of a Dark Corridor. It’d been tasked to scout for such anomalies, to find and report in the case of threat. However, this is just a child. Like Roxas. Perhaps it would be alright just this once…

The Nobody tugs at a white dress, careful not to scratch but insistent enough not to be ignored.

[seclusives]

She makes the dangerous assumption that a teleporting mechanism will get her back where she ‘belongs’ -- or at least back with Kairi... only to be proven horridly wrong. And she’s met with the same, hectic surroundings after a few bated breaths. Dead ends, and no clue.

It’s far too much like being trapped all over again. Save for the jagged blades and loaded threats at her throat.

A light yank at the fabric of Naminé’s dress has her whirling around, hand at the cloth to keep it from riding up any. “I’m sorry-- Were you looking for someone?” Eyes, still downcast, are all but glued to the floor, and she wrings both wrists to keep occupied.

[kairisheart]