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[TXT] media.png [/TXT][TXT] oh i meant to not do that [/TXT][TXT] oh well NOT BAD RIGHT [/TXT][TXT] whado you think:d [/TXT]
Cosimo Galluzzi

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Send me ☄ for a text that was supposed to be deleted, but was accidentally sent.
[TXT] media.png [/TXT][TXT] oh i meant to not do that [/TXT][TXT] oh well NOT BAD RIGHT [/TXT][TXT] whado you think:d [/TXT]
these assholes
[ text ] Lets learn to breakdance together and jump out of planes together when we e 65
[TXT] i can bring the cardboard box im pretty sure i can already do a headspin im PRETTY sure??? [/TXT][TXT] uhh why wait!! [/TXT][TXT] im free tomorrow [/TXT]
ツ
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[TXT] pretty sure i just figured out how this laptop thing works and i dont know why we never got one before!!! you can see all sortsa stuff [/TXT][TXT] how was i suposed to know who shakira was?? why didnt i kno? [/TXT][TXT] media.gif [/TXT][TXT] I LIKE IT! [/TXT]
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marriage.txt meme
[ text ] since ur so obsessed w me im letting u marry me, so lets do this thing u punk ass geek nerd. [ text ] i cant wait to toucj u babes [ text ] I am inspired by your words and feels [ text ] I wrote you a very in depth vow, but my FUCKING SHIT PHONE ERASED IT [ text ] You’re gay, I’m gay, can I make it any more obvious? [ text ] Will you do me the honor of becoming my Virtual Wife and Empress of my Myspace? [ text ] marry me? Also im gay. So. [ text ] will you marryyy meeesss and pet my furr down for the rest of my days…?? [ text ] ENOUGH TO MISS YOU INCREDIBLE WHENWE ARE APART, NO MATTER WHAT LENGHT OFTIME ITS FOR AND REGARDLESS OFTHE D [ text ] But i really don care bout anyone else Except mom and dad. lol. [ text ] Marry me, my dark emo prince [ text ] I WANT us to always be friends until where like DEADDDLEZ. Your muh besty friend ever. [ text ] I didn’t think it was possible to out-gay me, but than I met you [ text ] Yolo. Let us commence marriage. Swaggie out stay turnt. [ text ] I know we just met a few short hours ago, but I fell in love with you as SOON as I saw your face [ text ] till death do us part or a viagra prescription runs out [ text ] i just want to do kinky shit [ text ] Hi Baby,Cant stop laughing…SO we are rally doing this, yea(LOL). [ text ] im marrying you as a friend DO NOT THINK i am a lesbian because is it as a friend!!!!!!!!!!! [ text ] b my friendhold mewrap me upunfold mei am smalland needywarm me upand BREATHE ME [ text ] will you be my anime boyfriend [ text ] Idk what Im supposed to put here ok [ text ] I know our relationship is complicated but [ text ] [you better say yes dammnit] [ text ] We can roleplay K-pop boys together. [ text ] When I first met you I thought you looked kinda okay. Since then my affection for you has somewhat grown. [ text ] I fell in love with you at fifteenth sight. The first fourteen times, you made fun of me [ text ] my mom dosent have to know abou this [ text ] marry me bruh [ text ] I Love you…Bowser. [ text ] Lets learn to breakdance together and jump out of planes together when we e 65 [ text ] I know I only known you for two days but [ text ] NO HOMO
♔ — NOT SO MICKEY MOUSE CLUBHOUSE
A frown graces his lips in reflection of his friend’s own, the somewhat tense atmosphere proving to be quite unlikable to him. And the moment an apology slips from the other, he can’t help but feel a bit of annoyance bubble up inside him. Why should he apologize? It’s not his fault, and if anything, Riku finds he should be the one apologizing; having done so much to burden his friend. Glancing to the side for a moment, he wonders if ending up here is some kind of messed up karma; a backfired follow up to his naive wish to leave the islands before.
"Hey, don’t apologize." Moving beside his friend he leans an arm on one of his shoulders, leaning over to offer a fraction of a smirk that only falters a second later. "This situation is pretty unfair for both of us, right? It’s not your fault, doofus."
There’s a slight sting when Sora compares the circumstances, and he moves away from his friend and towards the kitchen instead; shooting a look over his shoulder to check if the other follows. However, he does have a point; at least they’ve got each other at their backs—Riku finding himself mildly relieved his friend is here with him. Besides, this place seems peaceful enough, though he isn’t naive enough to believe that couldn’t change over a short amount of time. It had only taken a night for their home islands to be swallowed up by darkness, so anything is possible, really.
"You’re as sappy as ever, Sora." He chuckles softly, a makeshift smile appearing at his friend’s optimism. "Things will probably turn out alright, they usually work out in one way or another. Mostly, I’m just concerned about my so-called "fiancé." Turning on his heel, a grimace settles on his features as he grabs the kettle off the stove and moves to fill it with water. Lost in thought for a moment, he watches the water run before continuing. "Ordinary people are no match for the darkness. To gain that much dark power overnight… It’ll consume him if he isn’t careful. We don’t need anymore dark matters repeating itself, or outsiders getting involved…" How troublesome.
Flicking on the burner and placing the kettle on it, he swiftly opens up a cupboard and pulls out two mugs. Twisting to meet the other’s gaze again he, holds up the mugs slightly and casually offers all they really have at the moment. “Hot chocolate?”
Reverting to original states and nicknames (no matter how mildly insulting) is by far the most comforting mechanism that's rattled him this afternoon. Worries are a fog now undermined by reassurance, seeping underneath the door he's just entered through. "Yeah, sure, but it doesn't hurt." It's only due to their similar scenarios that Sora feels compelled to apologize - capable of relating, as the most powerful, tangible weapon he bears (that isn't locked behind his ribs) is now missing in action.
It's begrudgingly that he accepts said fact, deciding that at least in front of Riku, there's not much of a point in expressing serious concern. He doesn't want to lace any more knots where anxiousness threads the centers.
Or be the fault of them where he could just as easily loosen each nerve. He's only pretending slightly - as for the most part, his confidence in their abilities doesn't reach limits. This area as a whole, however, has his stomach churning. (What else they might decide to pull in the name of a perfect, peaceful world and how it might change them even more so is nothing to make light of.) And it's human, yes, but uncharacteristic of him… so the wielder does what he does best: buckles down, and thinks positive. Again-- they'll get through this. "Sappy!?" The accusation has offense littering his tone, expression contorted with chagrin. "Sorry for trying to lift the mood, jeez!" Easily riled up? Check.
Some things never change.
Oh, fiance's, that's right. "Bet that's gotta be tough. Waking up with something like the keyblade…" He takes one glance at the back of his hand before turning it over, still pining after the dearth of his weapon. "He'll be okay if you look out for him." There isn't much he can say about his own keyblade - beyond a world-altering experience, it hasn't taken much of a toll on his body. Anything other than positive energy is bled, come the end of every night. "I'll help! Besides, it's not like there's any heartless to take care of around here. Haven't heard from anyone else, either." That doesn't change the risks, though… Someone's life and conscience on the line? Yeah, sounds like a priority. "Maybe I should check up on my... fiancé. Bet he got ahold of mine."
Leaning against a countertop, Sora's palms are supporting the majority of his weight when he notices his stomach growling mid-thought. "Heh-- guess I'm hungry as ever, too." Thirsty…? Lacking a better phrase, he nods away. Truth be told, it's hard to recall a time when his appetite hasn't gotten the better of him.
His appreciation for trivialities are better acted out than they are worded, as his impervious attitude has yet to make any serious changes. A show of teeth, cheesy and full, divulges his gratitude before he seeks out a spoon to start the stirring process. "Got any mini marshmallows around here? Maybe we can make s'mores." More like, make an unconventional, sticky mess on a pan - but he's willing to give it a go.
♔ — UN'S NEXT TOP KEYBLADER
Coincidence… Yeah, those seem to follow him around.
A slow nod is offered in return, taking in the general appearance that Sora has as he does so. “I’ve heard about you.” And fittingly, apparently, because just like Riku before him, Sora has a definite game-like aura. Not to say that Kenma thinks of them as such, but between shared powers (which he can assume that they both have,) and styles of dress, the place they came from obviously had that kind of setting. Frankly, it makes volleyball feel a little comparatively bland, and Kenma especially feels as if he’s becoming more and more dull by the moment.
(The weapon in his hand doesn’t count — it’s not his.)
It’s curious and enough to cause Kenma a slight twinge of guilt though when Sora makes a show of his own lack of a weapon. Less because of the weapon itself, and more because of their polar-opposite circumstances: the loss of something that rightfully belongs to one and the gain of something that by no means fits the other. It strikes him as unfair, but there’s probably nothing to be done about it from his own position, so the setter brushes it away. “Yeah, I guess.” He had the assistance of the internet and a knock on his door in the morning to help him along, but he did figure it out. “It’s okay,” Is about the best that he can offer, unsure of how else to respond.
"Riku already figured it out. He showed up at my apartment in the morning, and he looked upset." Among other things, anyway. The stress sounds reasonable with the way that Riku had gone about explaining things, but as far as Kenma’s understanding reaches it doesn’t seem as serious to him; his lack of experience with the subject and unfamiliarity with the world that it’s come from makes it harder to adequately measure anything pertaining to what’s been pushed upon him now. What he does know, is that he’s been told not to go overboard with… anything, really. Granted, he’s not really the type to do so anyway.
A quiet sense of curiosity continues to tug at him though he’s said about all that he needs to answer directly, and he finds his gaze drawn back to the blade in his hand again. It’s bad luck to be caught without his phone to distract him, but at least the novelty of the Keyblade hasn’t worn off, the unfamiliar patterns and feeling of its grip, (which he certainly knows isn’t intended for him,) is still interesting on its own. “So, you have one too…” A little awkward, but the subtle sense of familiarity from the resemblance of Sora’s character gives him a small comfort enough to carry on of his own will, “Is it different?”
Heard about him?
Oh! A familiar warmth settles into his stomach, response bright and automatic. Nearly innate, the nod he follows up with is a quick bob and connected to the clumsy slant of his mouth. "Yeah, I'll bet he complains about me all the time!" Taking this opportunity to fold each arm behind his head and lean slightly, Sora laughs - there's hardly been the time to complain, and he knows that much. Regardless, it lightens their load and this conversation could probably use some of that. Hopefully there won't be a need to clarify that much.
The smile should give more than enough away. His usually do.
While he hadn't been expecting Kenma to be riled up about his lack of a show for his own weapon, now missing in action, he doesn't anticipate the genuine, understanding timbre to his voice. At least he'll be a good match for Riku - that sort of a quiet nature is sure to juxtapose his own. (Not that he's at all focused on that, as there's still someone to worry about on his end, too.) Maybe right now would be the time he slings the blade over his shoulders and balances it there, comfort in a stance that fogs at it furthers into his memory. One thing's for sure: if Riku already knows, then he must be relatively concerned. It's bound to be a long week.
An interesting one, too. It's an opportunity to learn more about Kenma, right? He might as well take it! "Long story short, they're not always easy to work with." There are definitely some precautions that his closest confidant has already gone over, but he doesn't have any qualms with working through the motions. Even if he hasn't always been the best of teachers, there is some patience reserved for those who deserve it… and he can reach out for this chance in particular. "We've had 'em for awhile - hard to figure everything out when I can't even use it. But we'll get there - don't sweat it!"
Even if there wasn't much of a request for any explanations, he ambles into one and nods again. "Sure do! And… yeah, way different." Without any keychains? Significantly less cooler. Luckily for him, there are several equipped charms to change its appearance and capabilities - up its power and magic. "Less… uh… Y'know. More key-shaped. Sometimes! They change shape if you've got the right stuff attached." His can, at least. "But almost everybody has something different." Stealing a glance down at the keyblade, the brunet tilts his head. "I could show you a few basics, if you want?"
♔ — NOT SO MICKEY MOUSE CLUBHOUSE
Honestly, Riku isn’t all that surprised when Sora shows up at his door, offering a smile he recognizes as one used when something is bothering him. Taking the recent events into account, his first thought is that he’s here about the strange power swaps—perhaps having lost his own keyblade as well. He can’t help but find the thought amusing due to the irony of it; coming to him who had stolen the keyblade all those years ago. However, a feeling of guilt quickly creeps up on him and he pushes the thought out of his mind, the humour drowned out by such shameful memories.
“Talk about it." His reply is followed by a small sigh as he closes the door behind them, unsurprised by Sora simply waltzing into the apartment. However he pauses at the other’s question, eyes narrowing in thought; wondering if his prior theory was indeed true. He had meant to ask him about it sooner but… He wasn’t sure how he would react if Sora still had the Kingdom Key while he lost his own weapon. Despite his acceptance of so much, he still knows that childish jealousy will always linger in his heart.
Besides, losing his powers after everything they had been through isn’t an easy thing to admit. It just made everything seem so pointless. He had spent so long learning to tame and accept the darkness within himself, only to lose it. He briefly wonders if this is permanent or not, truly hoping for the latter. With a deep breath he steels himself to answer, shoulders tense with nervousness. “It wouldn’t happen to be about the keyblade would it?”
“The Way to the Dawn…" He looks at his hands, the unsure swirl of emotions leaving an unreadable expression upon his features. "And the power of the darkness… They’re both gone.”
Shoulders drooping in relief (however reluctant - so long as their situations align, there's nothing they can't conquer), the brunet's neck muscles slacken. Something ghosts along his tongue - he doesn't suspect it to be ingredients for blind faith that accompanies being able to relate. It's not unlike Sora to act childishly competitive in the games they've played, but this is something else entirely. Frankly, there's no need to point out that his relief doesn't stem from a possible envy. It's all concerning their new reality, and how it is they'll cope with it side by side.
And… elsewhere, at the same time. Sure, they've had familial commitments before, but they were minor and the three back home had been set on leaving, no matter what. Just where he should draw the line between an understanding mother and a brand new spouse in a place that demands attention in order to fabricate peace, Sora can't be sure. "You guessed it--" He can't really help the tug at each corner of his mouth, frowning because powerlessness is one sense that they're not used to. Nor have they been for the past few years.
How terribly drastic would it be to assume that he's become dependent on the sword that's changed his life, and shaped him since then? "That makes two of us. Can't get anything to work right now - but I dunno… Not like anybody said this was gonna happen when I - we, got here." Words more apologetic than spiteful, he narrows the distance between them just a sliver. "I'm sorry." Even if he has nothing to do with this choice, or this debilitating circumstance, he blurts it out with hazy eyes.
"Feels like the last couple months all over again." The inability to use his keyblade seems to be a recurring tribulation… all he can do is hope that this trial, too, will come to an end. Sooner than later is just a plus. "But hey-- we'll figure it out! We've got each other and all. No way it can get that bad, right?"
Kingdom Hearts Magazines 1/?
♔ — UN'S NEXT TOP KEYBLADER
There’s no hiding it. A sudden stranger’s voice, without any sound to warn him, causes Kenma to spook. He doesn’t get approached out of the blue often regardless of what he’s doing, and it’s hard to hide just how off-guard he’s caught when he is called out. (Though it’s… it’s weird, if he’s blunt, but he did know about the approaching presence from scent — a sense that seems overwhelmingly more powerful this past day or two — he just hadn’t imagined that it would be him being approached.) Wide eyes watch the stranger with some trepidation through apologies and a name, the latter of which catches his recognition.
Sora…
The name rings familiar in his ears, mentioned to him at least once prior through a mutual acquaintance of theirs, though he can’t say that he’s expected the other boy to be such a ball of sunshine. Bizarre coincidences seem to bring these sorts of people to Kenma time and time again despite his own reserved demeanour, and he’s never entirely sure how to react to a bundle of charisma who’s so willing to approach a stranger. Shifting his eyes from the stranger, Kenma draws his gaze back to the Keyblade in his hand and decides to focus on that for the time being; it seems to attract all sorts of trouble and people, doesn’t it?
"Er, Kenma." Introducing himself, absently, the thought crosses his mind that upon introduction his own name might strike Sora as something that he’s heard before too, indicating info and exchanges swapped with the same frequency that Kenma and Kuroo do. Though it isn’t like there’s any escaping that kind of recognition if it comes around and a shrug is given as he continues, wondering if the pieces will be put together regardless.
"I didn’t find it. It just kind of…" Murmuring just under the range of what would probably be considered polite, he loosens his grip and in the same flash that it always gives, it vanishes. A moment passes before he wills it back again, demonstrating how he’d come across the object in the first place. Both acts cause a sharp spike of pain to run up his wrist, but it doesn’t last longer than the light takes to blink, so Kenma has assumed it’s a natural effect up until this point, if not an unpleasant one. A brow is raised as he spares a cautious glance back to Sora, attempting to gauge what sort of reaction the feat receives. "See?"
Gathering each piece of this week's disorienting, albeit brief events dizzies him. That's saying quite a bit, as to dizzy him is to overcome 1000 heartless, to leave their every shell in the abysmal purgatory and act as though his efforts were for naught. Like they were nothing at all, and now this lack of said helpful weapon has his stability backpedaling tenfold. Downward spirals are too wide of a scape, and he wouldn't use them to describe a single thing in his arsenal. After all, he's capable of anything, isn't he?
At least, that's how he's been bred to think.
Questioning authority is only on his agenda when it involves the side that isn't his own - heroism and valor are never to be questioned. If his blood is classic when he decides against arguing away curiosity or doubt, then that'll have to be something he learns to live with. It might be with good fortune that he doesn't recognize the stages of dubiousness much, if at all. An equal share of luck lands in his lap as though Goofy's just used Lucky Lucky: one name that he's heard before. One that tingles on the tip of his tongue as possible explanations seep into his skull. Gratitude tracing into the young male's features with pencil-thin detail, he eludes any louder than all that falls beneath his breath permits.
"No way!?" It takes a moment, but he can imagine the other standing beside Riku and it's a curious idea that fills in a few blanks that linger at the sight of a misplaced blade. "Talk about a coincidence - I've sorta been wanting to meet you." He'd meant to go out of his way about this sooner, but that much is one opportunity lost. With another gained, he lets the subject of fiancé's bleed into the background, batting the notions away for more pressing matters at hand.
Nearly about to extend his arm and call his own sword forwards, Sora simply raises a palm to the back of his head and rids himself of an itch - a sheepish mannerism often shown when he evades doing something embarrassing and weighs the thought of it. Even if it goes without saying that Sora goes through with those chagrin-flooded actions more often than not, charging head-first despite himself. "Guess you know that's Riku's, huh? I'd show you mine, but it's not really answering right now." Perhaps it's alright now, to purposefully open and close his hand and express the lack of a response in physical terms. "Yeah… Nothing. Have you told him?" Surely, he knows it's missing.
♔ — NOT SO MICKEY MOUSE CLUBHOUSE
'Overwhelming' isn't even the half of it. That said, he's used to this. He's long-accustomed to nights where they just don't stop coming from each and every angle, where nothing but the blade between gloves faced with friction and the remains of shadows makes sense. And it's okay, because he's capable of adapting, sure… but that doesn't take away from the severity of it. Having a fiancé is nothing he should make light of, even if that just increases the chance of him doing so. One of his coping methods is exactly that - mitigating pressure and letting it drip away. Such is the way of the sea and its danger on soft sands.
But losing the keyblade for a second time around racks him with spiked nostalgia, aching underneath his skin. Because the person he's going to in his time of confusion is the only one ever proven capable of sleuthing it right out from under his nose. This is behind them - naturally - as the composition of his bones are forgiveness and oblivion's favorite pastime. But he doesn't forget the eerie absence that grapples him with a faint fever dream. A nightmare? Either way, it's not the most positive essence, but he can tolerate it. Grin and bear it. All very typical processes.
He tries once more just outside the doorframe, to summon his weapon and call it forth with all the faith in his body. It doesn't come, and his fist closes too-tightly, shoved in his pocket as a moment for safekeeping. All he knows is this, and the inevitable fear of being bare, weaponless and without magic, has him blinking for a moment at the doormat. What if he's alone in this?
What if… Riku still has Way to Dawn? And he's left empty-handed with ceaseless upcoming risks in their near future? (It might not be weakness, but it's close enough, and he wishes it away with eyes shut briefly before seven paced knocks, inspiring a familiar musical sequence in the back of his head. By the time it cracks open, his grin is spread from cheek to cheek. Sheepish, perhaps, for the confession he's about to make, but typical enough as to avoid rousing suspicion.
"Some day, huh?" As if he'd ask if he was intruding, the absentminded boy weaving to the side and into the other's home. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
♔ — UN'S NEXT TOP KEYBLADER
So far, the best he can do is set any unease aside - stress and worry and immediate panic won't do him any good, not here. This place is brimming with surprises, experiments and attempts of all kinds to make the new world work. Really, he's okay with that… if the worlds need peace (as far as his eyes have been capable of seeing, there's not a heartless or nobody in sight) and this is the only way, so be it. To sum it up quickly and quietly, everyone has lost something dear to their hearts, and the brunet doesn't want anything to do with contributing to more heartache. Any of his internalized struggles can come second, being less of a priority - that's okay, too.
Even so, that hardly means when he catches another someone fiddling with something that looks all too similar that he won't react with an 'o' for a mouth and saucers for eyes. It's not his keyblade, that much is for sure, but he has seen it on a few less than promising occasions. Discerning it as a belonging of his best friend's with a furrowed brows, he realizes it's best to close any distance between himself and the stranger… even if it is pure coincidence.
Most members of Organization Thirteen would be quick to say that the benefit of the doubt is nowhere near his strongest suit - all who he eliminated without a second thought for a greater good… a cause he didn't doubt with any sensitivity. They'd say he doesn't think, that he's not capable of doing any of that for himself because of each black and white realm he sees in, moral grayness miles away. But this light-haired other isn't donning a black coat, nor is their skin inky black. What could he possibly have to worry about?
His approach isn't slow - it definitely isn't steady, and he doesn't clear his throat in warning. "Uh, hey there!" It's a miracle his voice doesn't crack, but his gut isn't emanating any unsettling vibes. No point in making harsh assumptions. "Sorry to interrupt - you wouldn't happen t'know where you found that, would you?" Or… where it originates? Or if it belongs to someone else?
Oh, that's right; he should introduce himself! "I'm Sora."
♔ — HOT SINGLE (ME) IN YOUR AREA
A familiar warmth and wave of comfort renders him sensitive to weakness - a feeling he doesn't often come to terms with. Of course, this scenario is nothing special; he's lost the keyblade once, and there's no question in his mind to whether or not he'll get it back. There are efforts he'll need to proffer and everything should be just fine.
Once more, the worlds will align and all concerns following the lack of heartless in this place will cool down. It sounds significantly better than everything beginning to keel over, anyway. As much as he can't help but shrug it off, there's a lot on his mind.
Fortunately enough, he has a diversion scattered out over the next few months, and heavens know how much longer. A fiancé. Anticipating marriage is one thing he's not sure he'll ever be able to address directly, as commitment isn't his strong suit unless it involves virtue and all things just. Perhaps he's held stasis in the palms of sun-kissed hands with each of his best friends, and in the gratitude he has for one of the two winding up here, but Sora thrives best while on his feet. He's agile, quick and aims well when he's in motion.
So getting married - putting his entire life, and the full extent of it on the line is a notion that ruffles him more than the brunet would like to admit. It's fortunate that they don't live together just yet - as the road to meet the boy for a second time leads him to an open intersection gives him time to think (similarly enough to the years prior to their actual marriage). But he spots the dark-haired boy fairly quick, and breaks into an eager smile because above all… there's still life to appreciate here. And however strange domestic behavior is, he can learn to live with it.
A wave signals his attention, calling out before he gets within ten feet of the other. "Hiya! You ready?"
Amuse Me
Leave a “Amuse Me” in my ask, and I will write a funny drabble about my character trying to cheer your up.
There’s no point in trying to ignore the pressure that seeps through Hydread’s every edge - its very purpose being that of expectations for a better future… something they’ve sought since day one. It’s not just hard work that motivates them (though all that effort has its own hand in helping him trudge forward), but positivity and togetherness. Their safety, as a whole, more connected than apart, is a priority and not one of minor importance. As a matter of fact, there are few things he wouldn’t do to assure it.
Comfort and happiness are key factors that the brunet is happy to provide for both Riku and Kairi, several others coming to mind in tow. Despite the lack of depth in his acknowledgements and surplus of simplicity to the appreciation he emits, his actions uncover a whole other world. One of bright suns and endless skies where their rafts don’t fall apart and if they do, there’s an island close enough to collect themselves and build up a second time around.
If he can’t literally build this world, he’ll do his best to make it a softer, clearer reality.
Such a realm comes to life at even the mildest recognition of a decline in Riku’s mood.
"Whadd’ya mean, it’s nothing?” Brows furrowed and gloves hands planted on two hips, the wielder doesn’t budge. "I don’t buy it. C’mon, I know this place has got a pretty weird idea of ‘peace’, but still! At least we’re together, right?" Demeanor bubbling with reassuring notions that he fills his own mind with every day since their arrival, he does his best to illustrate the point with a wide grin.
It’s a masterpiece, really, but not quite as much as the ridiculous face pulled once he turns away and whirls back around. "Besides!" Tugging up at the tip of his nose with a finger and looking up, Sora bursts into laughter sooner than later. "There’s something I wanna show ya."
As usual, he doesn’t take no for an answer - pulling the taller male along without any say in the matter to a meadow away from the city’s buzzing (however occasionally pleasant), headache-inspiring melody. Surrounded by a field blanketed by a variety of flowers and pine’s several aromas is a shimmering lagoon, calm and opalescent in color. It’s beautiful, really, and he’s been holding out for a special occasion. (Okay, that’s a lie. It might be absentmindedness alone.)
This seems like a good enough reason to finally expose it for all its worth.
Hands on his knees as he hunches over to catch his breath (there's no time to waste, after all, what — with all there is to see?), Sora can’t bite back smiles any longer. The sun is warm on the back of his neck and the only company for miles is someone dear to his heart. When he stands up straight and folds his arms, the best he can offer is a shrug. "See? It’s not so bad. We’ve got this - just gotta take it one day at a time!"
Distractions prove to get the best of him as a frog catches his eye, and his heel meets a slippery boulder… one that lands him on his bottom in the shallow current.
"… That was on purpose!"
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✌ - Drunk/drugged text
[TXT] HEAY u woudlnt hapen to know where the NRoth pole is from ehre would yOU??? SOrRY iTSLATE HAHaho.. [/TXT][TXT] im Lookgin for Saan [/TXT][TXT] sSatna [/TXT][TXT] Satan [/TXT][TXT] media.png [/TXT][TXT] SANTA!!! [/TXT]
dandelions!!
{ SORA HEADCANON. FAMILY TREASURE }:Dandelions are known for their hairless and fragility attributes and can be easily adored and purposely stepped on. When Sora was younger (maybe 6-8 years of age) he believed that inside each individual floret lived a family and when the dandelion was whole, he imagined a community of candy-like buildings and shapes (similar to the world of Sugar Rush from Wreck It-Ralph.) For a majority of his childhood, Sora did everything to remind his peers not to carelessly stomp over the flowers or blow into them fearing for the families inside the dandelions would get separated and blew into the sky - never returning home.