#canon.verse

[perditos]

Twilight Town

Starter for @valorxdrive

A thin layer of dust gathered on the table. Xion ran her finger along the wood and wiped clean a long line. She wiped her hand off on her coat and turned a circle around the room. A window had been left open, maybe years ago, and a thin breeze brushed through the white curtains. Xion remembered when she sat in this room two years ago and a pale, thin girl told her that she had to die. This was a bleak, and plain place, and only now Xion wondered how anyone could ever live here. 

It was a terrible place to live.

It was a worst place to die. 

“All everyone ever talked about was you,” Xion confessed. She glanced over her shoulder at Sora. The boy waited for her in the doorway. “Sora this, Sora that, we have to wake-up Sora. Sometimes I just wished — well, I just wished they would let you sleep and leave us alone.”

She turned to face him. Two years ago she was nothing but a collection of memories and the fragile, shadow of a heart. Xion lived on stolen time. She resented him, and by the time she ripped him out of her, she hated him. Why did he deserve to live and she deserve to die? Because he was the hero. Because he was the one who was going to defeat Xemnas and destroy Kingdom Hearts and save the day. And she and Roxas would be his bloody footnotes.

“I’m glad I got to meet you, though,” Xion admitted. “You’re a good friend.”

[perditos]

Unknown

Starter for @dichotomouskey

Silver melted into molten gold and lavender blushes as the keyblade lodged into Saix's chest. A hollow gasp echoed out of his throat, coarse and rough. Spittle gathered at the corners of his lips. Xion seethed, her breath hot behind her teeth and her ribs aching. Saix trembled, pale lashes blinking back tears. Shadows bubbled and shaped around him, thin tendrils of darkness digging lines in his pale skin. He looked at her.

"Xion," he whispered. His shoulder braced against her thigh as his body failed him, his weight bearing into her unsteady legs. Ink blot blood spilled over her shorts and seeped into the weave of her tights. It mingled with crimson red, hot, and startling. "For my previous insult... I apologize."

His yellow eyes softened, a giving she had never seen before. "Apology accepted," she murmured.

Xion ripped the blade from Saix's body. He collapsed at her feet. The darkness claimed him, pulling him into its depths. Her grip, soaked with blood and sweat, slipped and the keyblade fell from her hand. The steel clattered against the metallic floor and vanished into a burst of light. In a rush, the pain and exhaustion hit her. She lifted her foot, balanced precariously on her toes, and stepped forward.

Xion lifted her eyes, to the windows above her, to the pale, gold moon, of Kingdom Hearts. Day after day after day until they ran together like watercolors, wake-up, fight, sleep, wake-up, fight, sleep, wake-up. All for Kingdom Hearts and Xemnas' stupid war. She would not die his tool, she would not die his weapon, she would not die. Roxas, Roxas, Roxas, he was past her, he'd finish this.

"Sorry, Sora, I guess I can't... keep-up." And she smiled, regretting, hurting. Her legs gave out and her knees struck the unforgiving floor. Xion caught herself on her hands. She coughed and spat out blood. She tasted the iron and salt.

Footsteps, sounding on tile, her body crumpled against the metallic floor, and cold, cold hands.

[viktorblight]

i don't think chetta would ever see or have visited viktor in his commune, but if i can imagine how jarring it would be for them to see him. what was once a carved marble face that would push all his affection he held into his amber eyes, now a cracking porcelain and metallic fusion of disinterest. almost bored by the fact that they are in front of him, only to be sparked alive at the idea of healing their imperfections. oh, how chetta would run from his touch and gaze, not wanting to be another equation to solve. oh, the tears that would be shed.

maybe i should write a "what if". . .

[perditos]

Ask: “ yes.  i am telling you what to do.  i’m telling you not to pull something like that again because—  ‘cause fucking hell.  i care about you.  okay? ”  It's the time of day where Aeleus makes worried dad noises at Xixi. Except he looks incredibly serious this time.

From: @teardownheaven

Meme: Soft(ish) Angst Prompts

Blood spotted the clean white bandage. Even wrapped the roll, round, and round Xion’s upper arm, binding it tight across her broken skin. Pricks of pain ran down to her fingertips. Pale light bounced off the sterile clinic floors and reflected back: Even’s placid face, Xion’s hunched shoulders, Aeleus’ set jaw. The room smelled of antiseptic and bleach, a nauseating concoction of chemicals. Petrichor, rain and grass, lingered in the air from the healing. Magic resonated in Xion’s bones. 

“What do you want me to do?” Xion growled, her voice rasped and growled. She hacked, clearing phlegm and blood in her lungs. “Nothing?”

She looked-up at Aeleus. 

He was a mountain. When Xion was very young, she didn’t know what that meant. She had never been on top of a mountain. She had never looked down into a valley. She had never felt so much rock and dirt under her that she could only think in millennia, not minutes. Lexeaus was unmovable back then. She didn’t know that rain and wind wore down mountains. Mountains round and soften until they become canyons, dug miles deep in the ground. 

In the lines in Aeleus’ face, Xion saw canyons but in his eyes she remembered mountains. 

“I know.” She murmured, words softened as she ducked her head. Her fingers worked in and out of her pants legs. Her hands weren’t always scarred and calloused. Few people remembered that, and sometimes, even Xion forgot. 

Xion knew Aeleus cared. Xion knew Aeleus worried. Xion knew that his heart bled. Xion knew all that and she also knew something else: she was going to do it again. Because Xion knew herself, better than she ever had, and she was no mountain. She knew this would not be the last time she tasted her own blood. She knew that wars aren’t won until they are done. 

“I’m sorry.” 

[perditos]

Ask: ““You are remarkably well-behaved tonight, what have you been up to?” Aeleus isn't even suspicious he just wants to know if the Sherriff is going to turn up and what he should be saying, honestly.”

From: @teardownheaven

Xion looked-up from her book. She sat on the couch, a blanket tucked around her legs, and pillows piled behind her shoulders. At hand was a steaming mug of tea and a bowl of popcorn. She blinked, staring at Aeleus as her mind processed his sudden question. He stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, a towel twisted in his hands. Despite his paranoia and suspicion, he was smiling at her.

So, Xion grinned back.

She picked-up her mug and sipped from it, eyeing him over the rim. Xion put the mug back and quipped, “I’m allowed to have a quiet night in, aren’t I?”

That wasn’t a lie but it was an intentional withholding of the truth. Besides that would spoil the fun of finding out what Ael would say if the Sherriff showed-up to ask about all the lost deer on main street. 

In Xion’s defense, it was Kane’s idea. 

[perditos]

Ask: “ Why do you want to help me?” 

From: @ninthnocturne

The darkness swirled and eddied. The abyss stretched as far as the eye could. There was no end and no start to the shadow. No light for the mind to make sense of it. No landmarks, no definitive shapes, nothing solid. When Xion was very young, Saix had explained to her to never let her gaze wander when traveling the dark corridors. It was simply too easy to lose bearings and become lost. 

Apparently, the thought of losing the Organization’s precious investment to the darkness was enough to inspire compassion in even Saix. 

The corridors intersected in a deep well of shadow, a cross-section between two worlds. Vexen had warned her it would be perilous. The heartless patrolled the corridors and normally ignored the empty nobodies that passed through it. There was no incentive in attacking an empty shell and even the heartless had a sense of self-preservation. Not so when that nobody carried a body of light, a replica seeded with the memories of a little lost soul.

Dawn Cutter pierced the chest of a heartless, wedging between armor plates. Shadows like ink dripped from the sword’s edge as Xion pivoted. With ruthless efficiency she slashed and cut her way through the heartless. It was automatic, pure instinct and practice, as she dodged attacks then struck back twice as hard. This was what she was made for.  

A flick of her hand and a beam of light erupted through the body of the last heartless. Dawn Cutter vanished from her hand.

“I’m not helping you.” Xion turned to Demyx. “I’m just repaying a favor.”

The limp body draped over his thin shoulders. (A thin girl, in white, a little ghost in the upper room.) The dark landscape cut Demyx’s features stark. There’d be no spark of recognition in his eyes or memory to provide him a name. If he even cared to remember. 

He hadn’t changed at all.

She had. 

“The heartless won’t bother you now,” Xion explained. “You can finish your mission.” 

[princestatus-blog1]

shoukcz / ???

interrogation starters || accepting

there’s a slight jump in her shoulders as she’s being addressed. had she seen anything? was there something that had happened? was she supposed to be paying attention and because of the fact that she hadn’t, she’s now being asked to reiterate the scene that she supposedly saw? maybe someone had asked her to earlier and she just didn’t remember? she frowns.

a slight tremble shakes through her as she shakes her head no and lowers it in a small attempt to apologize, guilt gnawing at her. hopefully it wasn’t something too important or she’d feel even worse.

oh god he’d made her nervous. he rushes to reassure her, a nervous smile on his face, his hands out in front of him. of all things - well, okay, maybe asking someone if they saw anything was a little suspicious, but he’s not a suspicious guy! he promises, so he really does feel bad. of course, he doesn’t touch her at all, keeping a good foot and a half between them.

“n - not like, a crime thing! like, i’m recording something special for my fans and i don’t want it to be spoiled, that’s why ... nothing bad! please don’t feel bad!”

[futoncouchs]

@yakkcn | yaku-san

DAMN THESE TALL PEOPLE ! & their long legs with their ability to reach doors before him . to think futakuchi even holds it open for him is infuriating on so many levels . he’s not a child ( & he might be taking this a bit more personally than necessary ) . he huffs , blowing out a huff of air with his tongue , a loud ‘pbbbth ‘ directed at the spiker in an oh-so childish manner. grow up, yaku ! this is totally unreasonable treatment & behavior towards this man .

he’s too proud , too arrogant , choosing to stand at the door instead of walking through it with his arms folded over his chest . his nose turned upwards derisively in an attempt to stare futakuchi down & really , it’s more like he glaring intensely up at the sky . cursing anyone who holds even an inch over him .  does he mutter a thank you ? no , he doesn’t ! because it’s infuriating to feel like he’s constantly being looked down on . ❛ you can go first . ❜

                                                    ❤ ′  ━  【 @futoncouchs 】

he didn't mean to be rude, he just ... usually holds the door out for people, because it's polite. kenji raises an eyebrow, blinking a little fast. is this what short people are like? wait, but sakunami is never like this. but sakunami's also an angel ... err. okay. he scratches the side of his head, but shrugs and enters first, holding the door out for the other to catch it before it shuts.

... man. what's up with nekoma, huh? they really are just various cat personalities, from what he's seen. he's glad that datekou's only rep is him being a giant pain in the ass. because that's entirely intentional, and he likes annoying people.