towerofanimus

Entry tags:

006

Characters: Riku/"Tamas" and open/closed/open
Setting: Anywhere over the month of June
Format: Action preferred, but I'll match!
Summary: Riku during June, also having your powers forced out of control really, really sucks
Warnings: Darkness, Angst, possibly violence at one point, but nothing all too graphic

[A - 5th to 19th June - Floors 32 & 25 (Daytime), all around the tower at night]

[Even with cafeteria, restaurant and the power down, Riku only alters his routine to fit the circumstances - he isn't all too worried about himself; he's more than capable to manage himself. Every now and then he can be found gathering food or hunting on Floor 32 - he isn't above using the monsters as food source, but if he could manage otherwise, well... - but if he isn't, he's most likely continuing with studying... with less and less result as the month goes by admittedly.

At night he is out on the hunt though, clearing out groups of monsters where he knows he can take them... though he is even more cautious than usual. With all supplies limited, he really can't effort being reckless after all.]

[B - 20th June - Floor 13 - closed to Kairi]

[He has noticed that something has started to go wrong, that Soul Eater summoned itself, that his Dark Firagas flare a little more strongly than he intends them to. It's not the first time that this has happened; he recognizes it from just a few months ago, when the collars had gone haywire...

But it's getting even worse this time, because he's been feeling his grasp on the darkness inside him slip more and more in the passing week, has felt the part of it that's not his own swell and push and despite his best tries to regain control of it and himself while going on - he is slowly starting to lose himself.

Today, it's growing bad enough to make him dizzy, to the point where he just stumbles over his feet and against the wall - cold, strong stone maybe slightly soothing - breath shuddering as he reaches up, his right hand settling over his heart while his left clings to the wall. Maybe if he rests here for just a moment, he can get the Darkness back in check.]

[C - 20th to 24th June - all around the tower]

[Even though Riku would never admit so out loud, his transformed state does have some upsides. First and foremost that he can think more clearly again; though he feels slight bouts of dizziness, they are far, far less distracting now. (There is also the very clear upside of finer control over the Darkness around him and the increase of physical strength, but honestly... he would prefer being himself. But then again... this has never been about his preferences.)

Even with Kairi knowing, he cannot help but distance himself from who he had been, from who he might never be again, if things went wrong... The last time the tower had messed with his powers, he had transformed back when things had returned to what the tower considered normal, but things had been different then. The Darkness inside him hadn't been as steep.

It's alright though, he supposes... it's all about adjusting, it's just about separating his now-self from who 'Riku' had been. And getting used to the new (in his opinion, well enough fitting) name he has chosen for himself. After all, what else was he now but 'Darkness'...

He has altered his movements now, wandering the tower randomly and staying away from the places Riku is known to linger at, the hood up hiding his face. But he still spends his night on fighting. Or well... practicing just what he can do with his Darkness now. Who knew when that would get handy after all.]

ooc: If you haven't, please take a look at Riku's permissions post!

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[He may not remember, thanks to his point on the timeline, but she does. (It'd be a hard thing to forget, after all.) She doesn't turn her eyes away, though it hurts to see him like this - even in her state, she hasn't lost sight of her desire to keep from causing him any more suffering, and she instends to let him see that it's still him that she's looking at, regardless of what his appearance is, right now.]

[... Though even before that comment, she can feel her powers overstepping their bounds, sneaking unbidden toward his heart. She tries to draw them back, as she's frequently done recently, but as ever, they are beyond her control. Now, finally, she lowers her eyes, though this time it's out of her own shame, after his comment. She squeezes her eyelids shut, acutely aware of a more insistent tugging at his memories and trying not to look at them, herself, even if she can't help it.]

... Yes. [The second part comes out more like a gasp than she'd like.] I'm so sorry.

[He wouldn't blame her for turning away, or for fearing him - he knows very well just what (who) he is keeping at bay in his heart, and even with the Heartless' mind dormant as it has been ever since Castle Oblivion, he isn't fool enough to believe that he has stopped being a threat, that he can effort to be careless for even one moment in that regard. If he ever lets himself weaken in the wrong moment, he'll be lost.

Even so that she doesn't turn away is comfort, one that he will gladly accept (no matter how selfish that is). There are more memories flickering before his mind's eye - of hours spent within the darkness of his room in Hollow Bastion's Castle, the ugly, ugly taste of betrayal lingering on his tongue as he clenches his hand into a fist and considers Maleficent's offer (and wonders whywhywhywhy had Sora replaced him, them, with those stupid, stupid animals?) and really... if that woman can help him find Kairi, he should probably take her up on it, just to see if she'd be true to her word (he's not trusting enough to believe that she's just helping for the sake of it, but it's not like he isn't using her back so it ought to be alright).

The memory makes that knot of guilt in his gut twist a little further, but it doesn't stop him from stepping closer, from reaching down (she is so much smaller, now, it's maybe just a little strange) to gently place his hand on her arm, just like he would if he were himself. He is not afraid of what her powers might do, because he's confident. If he were to lose his memory, surely she'll stitch him back together once they are back to normal, right? (Though he does hope it won't come to that.)]

It's not your fault.

[So really. She doesn't have anything to be sorry for.]

[It'd be difficult to fear him, knowing him as she does. She's too familiar with his goals and his ways and his heart - which, she is reminded with an uncomfortable clenching in her chest as she catches glimpses of the memories she's trying so hard not to look at, she has been so careless as to intrude upon - to fear him for himself. She can't fear him for the other person in his heart, either, not truly; the other person is the one who is a danger, and though that risk is included (at least for now) inextricably with Riku himself, she can't find it in her to be properly afraid of him.]

[She looks up at him after a few moments, hoping to find in the present something that will distract her mind from the past, from someone else's past but also, in a way, her own. (It makes her sick to think of how he's feeling now, of what those unwelcome memories leave in their wake.) Seeing him move closer, though - her eyes widen, jaw clamping down on an almost pained noise that she's trying hard not to let out - not from fear of him, never that, but from fear of herself. Her lips tremble slightly, though she manages to hold firm and does not back away. Even though it's dangerous, even though it worries her, the gesture means a lot to her. There's an instant during which she almost looks like she wants to cry ~~because she does, she has for a while now except not for all of the same reasons~~ yet that, too, she holds back.]

[It's true, she would fix him - no matter how long it took or how difficult it was. She would piece what there was of him back together with as much care and attention as she could possibly manage, but that... would he ever really be the same again? Could she trust herself with that, too, when she can't even trust herself not to break him in the first place? Would there even be pieces left that were big enough to fit together again? Or would his heart be nothing but a fine powder, were the entirety of her powers to be unleashed? Such thoughts are terrifying and she cannot help thinking of them, so when her mouth opens to respond, what comes out is somewhere between a gasp and a squeak, and she presses her lips together again to take in a shuddering breath.]

[Her arms starts to move before she can stop it, but once it's in the air and she realizes it's changed position, it's too late to back out, though it does slow in its path until finally it comes to rest over his, even more gently - it's barely more than a graze with the tips of her fingers - full of caution and the same worry that she'll hurt him, somehow, even if physically doing so would actually be the least of her concerns. Eventually, after some struggle, she gets out an earnest but almost broken,]

Thank you.

[...To be honest, he is glad for it - even though he doesn't quite agree maybe, but even so he's still glad that she isn't fearing him, because unlike Kairi (or Sora, if he were awake) she knows exactly what is hidden within the abyss of his darkness.

There is bitterness, there is guilt, past shadows stirred and restless in his heart and mind, but he shoves it all away, because the friend before him needs him to, especially now when she looks so much more vulnerable than ever before. No matter what memory her powers call to his mind, he will endure. This can't last forever, after all.

There might be no telling what the pieces of his heart and memories were to take, but even so Riku remains confident in his faith in her. ~~Believe in the him that believes in you, Naminé!~~

He is maybe just so very slightly startled when her hand comes up to brush against his, the corners of his mouth tugging up ever so slightly in a soft smile - all Riku and maybe so very foreign on the face he is wearing now.]

You are welcome.

['Anytime.']

[She knows, and she knows enough not to be afraid. ~~Speaking of faith--~~]

[Not forever, no - or at least, so she hopes. It ended last time, after all. With any luck-- well, perhaps that's a lost cause, but surely if this keeps along the same vein as the things that came before it, it'll be over some time. For now, though, her powers still tug and pull at his memories, though more gently than before, less intrusively - although of course intrusion is still inherent in it. It's a start, at least.]

[~~Believing in him is certainly easier for her than is believing in herself, it's true, but in that way it might not do her much good.~~]

[Foreign and familiar all at the same time, and she watches it closely, and it's funny, but she can almost see him as he usually is, just looking at that smile. All the same, it's a few moments before she returns it subtly - though that doesn't mean she doesn't appreciate it thoroughly, because she does. The long, quiet sigh she lets out after that is probably testament that she's gleaned at least some comfort from this.]

[The tug softens, but still memories are called forward - now not quite as bitter though (of soft reds of Twilight Town's sunset that shine into the white room, of the smell of old books and scrolls that DiZ dropped off at his room, of the clicking sound of keys being pressed down while DiZ worked on... whatever it was that he was keeping hidden ~~and while this isn't home, it is maybe something that comes close, for now~~).

He looks distracted for just a moment as the memories flicker past his minds eye, to him they are good memories - or (mostly) peaceful memories at least.

He keeps his hand where it is, because any comfort he can offer her is hers to take; he knows she'd never ask or maybe not even accept if offered (but he also knows that he is just the same, and that is why going beyond just offering like he has now, is likely fine in this case).

It's not so much about believing in him as it is about believing in "him believing in her" which is not as good as believing in herself, but at very least it should tell her that that others are not as hesitant to put their faith in her.]

[Her eyes widen slightly at the realization of what sorts of memories follow her call this time. In a way, it's less offensive an idea, but in another way, it's almost more so. Funny, how uncomfortable it makes her to lay a finger on the happiness of others.]

[But oh, how these memories intertwine with her own. For her, too, those were happier days, at least more so than the ones before them. Twilight Town came closer to being a home for her, too, than the true world of her origin. A surge of homesickness of all things, irrational and almost entirely driven by how terrible this problem is for her, how much it makes her wish for a time when she didn't have such a problem - only back then, she had plenty of other problems.]

[Suddenly, to her horror, she finds that those memories called forth by his have been forced toward his heart, and surely if he does not fight it he will see them; memories of the scrape of crayons on paper, of colors and the drawings they made up flowing into being over a canvas of white, of time spent peering guiltily though almost pleasantly so through a window out onto the forest and the town beyond it (a shameful and dangerous indulgence of a girl yearning for life, for a real life and a real chance to go out and see that horizon and the things beyond it with her own two eyes, not as a memory and not from behind glass), and of time spent hard at work in the basement of the mansion on a project that might well break her heart if she had one--]

[She tries so hard to fight it, to keep him from seeing, but to no avail, and before she knows it, her small hand is clutching the back of his almost desperately - not painfully, but it is a clear sign of her distress. (And she is ashamed, almost--)]

[~~She might yet think his faith misplaced, regardless. ... But it would mean a lot to her.~~]

[He makes a startled noise when her memories wash over him, when he can feel crayon between his fingers , the colors of twilight as Naminé sees it and he feels her longing echo through him, her longing and her shame and it makes him ache for her, makes him wish that things were different (not that he doesn't anyways, but now he wishes it even more).

The feeling of her hand clutching his keeps him anchored though, and he just places his free hand over hers as he quietly exhales. He won't back away; he won't leave her alone.

~~Then she has it. And it's not misplaced.~~]

[At that sound, she knows for certain that he has seen, and she blurts a rushed, quiet,]

I'm sorry--!

[But she stops before she can make any further apology when his other hand touches hers, her lips pressing guiltily together. It's obvious in the way her brow knits that she's still ashamed, still so very sorry for forcing such a thing upon him, and so she turns her face to the ground - or is it to their hands? - and squeezes her eyes shut, grateful despite herself.]

[That gratitude may by what makes the problem continue, though less forcefully now; there's something very gentle about it, almost as if she were doing it intentionally, even though she actually isn't. These memories are of him, through her eyes - they're brief, practically blurred, but they span portions of the time before his last memory of their worlds' timeline, and they make it clear that she has faith in him, even through his flaws, and-- oh, what was that last one that just passed by, more slowly than the others because of its relation to the current situation? He likely won't recognize it, because it's part of his future; the hill in Twilight Town, looking up at a version of him that's much too tall, like the form he has now, hooded but still who she recognizes very clearly as him, and she is grateful to him then, too, for the life he chooses to spare her.]

[It stops suddenly, then, almost as if her powers are as startled as she is when that particular memory pops up. She sucks in a breath, looking up sharply with wide eyes.]

[(She'd meant to keep that to herself unless necessary--)]

[The force of the memories lessens, but that doesn't make it any less strange to see them flash before his eyes. He feels uncomfortable to see himself through her eyes, to have her feelings echo through her - it feels like he is intruding on something that really should be hers alone.

The last flash, he doesn't recognize indeed, but that in itself doesn't surprise him - he knows that she is from after him in the time line - nor does his appearance in that memory. He's known that a win over Roxas wouldn't come without consequences.

The flash of gratitude does however and the reason for it even more.

His eyes widen as he stares down at her, paling.]

...What happened?

[Why would he-?]

[Naminé is no stranger to going places in the memories of others that no one probably should, especially when doing so unbidden. Having someone else do the same to her, well-- maybe she deserves it, but it's a very unpleasant sensation. The only comfort in this is that at least it's him. At least it's Riku, who knows so much about her already, who she can trust to keep her secrets his, too.]

[That face - with a different structure, perhaps, and different coloring, but that expression nonetheless - is exactly the one she didn't want to cause. She didn't want to allow even the possibility of such a situation to ever cross his mind, because it was a horrible thing. For now, at least, the memories have stopped flowing, but in their absence there is a void she has not choice but to fill with words she'd rather not have to speak.]

[The sigh that she lets out in preparation accompanies the lowering of her eyes. With an effort, she draws them up again. She should at least look him in the eye for this.]

... DiZ... decided that it was best-- to get rid of me. [And there's a lot more she could say about that, about how that felt, but her powers have already given some hint of that, and it's not a hint she'd like to expand upon.] He--... told you to do it, Riku.

[He will always be willing to guard her secrets, to keep them safe, if she chooses to trust him with them - which is why this seem like a breach on his part.

He is caught up in between distress and anger when she clarifies - w why- how could DiZ ever-

Except that this is DiZ they are talking about, who has never cared to hide his hate and disdain for any and all Nobodies - not even to Naminé, even though she was doing her best to fix what the Organization had forced her to unravel, who is more deserving of kind words than either of them.

DiZ has never shown much care for anything except results.]

He can tell me as often as he likes.

[Riku is hardly a stranger to doing the dirty work, but this? This, he refuses to lift a finger for. And if DiZ ever does himself, well... he shouldn't be surprised to find a Keyblade blocking his path.

Riku has never taken kindly to people that intent to harm his friends.

But he needs to make sure Naminé knows that-]

You know I'd never-

[Never again.]

[It is a breach, but one that cannot be helped, and she will never blame him for it nor distance herself from him because of it.]

[DiZ was a step up from her previous... overseers. A big step - which was why she had perhaps been less guarded than she should have been, and why his decision to order her execution came as more of a surprise than it should have. She learned from that, however, and it's not a mistake she's as likely to make again. It's not that she had any illusion that he cared much what became of her, but rather that she'd hoped he was at least a little less ruthless than that. But more importantly,]

I know. [It's earnest, and her hand tightens slightly around his.] You didn't, Riku...! You let me go. [A faint smile sneaks onto her face, small but present.] You said that you owed me, for Castle Oblivion. [Pause.] I didn't get to say it then, but-- you don't owe me anything.

[He is glad, because admittedly? He isn't quite sure what he would do if she did. (He would of course respect her wishes, but... he'd probably be kind of miserable).

It shouldn't have come at all. DiZ should know better than to ask this, should be better... shouldn't he?

The distress is still on his face, though it has lessened a little - he does owe her, not just because of Castle Oblivion, but because of all she has done for him since, back home and in the Tower. But...]

That's not why-

[That's not why he would- why he will let her go.]

[Good, then, that he won't have to suffer through that. Even if she did see any reason to be upset at him, the idea that he might be caused any discomfort would probably deter her from any action.]

[And that distress hurts her, reminds her over and over why she didn't want to tell him about this in the first place.]

[His words make her pause. ~~A part of her wonders if she owes that to Kairi, not out of lack of faith in him but lack of faith in herself.~~ She'd suspected such a thing at the time, really, but she'd doubted herself. Surely to assume such a thing would be presumptuous.]

... Of course. You're always looking after me.

[But does that really count as 'why'?]

[Even though learning about this piece of the future distresses him, he is glad that he knows. That she isn't carrying around this knowledge by herself anymore.

He just shakes his head, eyes closing; she's not quite understanding why, is she?]

You are my friend.

[And that is really all reason that should ever be needed. No obligation... no debt.]

[Now, if only she could be, too.]

[That makes her blink up at him, startled despite how well she knows that he is too good to her. It's such a strange thing for someone like her to hear, even after so long. Her hand squeezes his slightly in a way that might not be intentional, then relaxes suddenly as if out of fear that she's hurt him, even though there's little chance of that, considering how light a squeeze that was.]

--....

[She wants to say, 'even then?', but maybe the look on her face does it for her. It may be his future, but it's her past, and that version of him never made mention of the Tower, nor does she now suspect he knew of it, of how much more time they've had to spend together and the things they've gone through together in this place.]

[If only.

Even as the light pressure of her hand squeezing his disappears, he really can't help but squeeze back - the look on her face makes his heart ache, he knows he's left this always unspoken, partly because he has thought (hoped) that she understands it is given, and maybe (likely) also because he was afraid to say it, afraid to burden her with a bond that might disappear only all too soon either through death or well...

He has no idea how to explain this all, how to put in words that it has nothing to do with her and everything with him.

So he doesn't and just keeps squeezing her hand gently. And hopes she understands what he isn't daring to say out loud.

'Even then.']

[She does understand, she does know - it's just so foreign and strange a thought, on some level. She'd never though herself worthy of such things back then, her difficulty with the idea stemming from her view of herself rather than her view of him. But... he deserves her belief, she realizes. He deserves better than to be doubted, even if that doubt was of herself rather than of him.]

[He needn't say it. She watches him for a long, long, feels that touch, and-- the smile that happens is small, but there, and full of understanding, accompanied by the slightest of nods and warm eyes. Her hand holds his more tightly again, and she lets out a quiet sigh, her face lowers - she looks little more relaxed now. Her head turns slightly toward where their hands are, and maybe if they were higher, it seems she almost might rest her cheek against them, but perhaps it only feels that way.]

['Thank you.']

[He exhales slowly, letting go of the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding - and now he wishes even more fiercely he were himself, his true self... because then he wouldn't worry about hurting her quite as much as he is now, on top of worrying about crossing boundaries.

There is a second of indecisiveness before he moves, before he slowly, gently pulls one of his hands free and moves it just as slow and gentle as he settles it around her shoulders, careful as he tries to pull her closer, ready to let go again, to let her have her space, the moment she shows any sign of discomfort with the gesture.

'You are welcome.']

[Her eyes open when he moves - they'd started to close before - turning up toward him questioningly. She lets his hand go free without any resistance, raising her head. Even then, it takes her a little while to realize what's he's doing. She straightens slightly at the realization, eyes widening.]

[Her response otherwise isn't immediate, but... at his encouragement, she moves closer, as much so as he means to draw her. It's true that this is especially strange given his current form - but now just as before she knows precisely who it is under that coat, and she knows that she can trust him, and so she does not fret. Any and all instinctive discomfort is nudged aside by her understanding of the situation.]

[It's probably selfish of him to seek comfort like this, he thinks belatedly, even though he intended this gesture for her, even though this was supposed to comfort her.

Nevertheless he holds on for another moment, before he disentangles himself from her, takes a step back. He's maybe really not quite looking at her.]

[And it does, in its own way. She only hopes it comforts him, too. She makes no move to draw away of her own volition, just allows this and in fact settles into it, just a little, but before she can get too comfortable, it's over.]

[She looks up at him uncertainly, but then she sees how he isn't quite looking at her. It's not hard to tell he's feeling awkward about it. She is too, in her own way, but-- but he shouldn't have to. He didn't do anything wrong - not that doing things like that is necessarily right, either, not because she didn't appreciate it but because, as in many things, she is not certain that she is worthy. Her brow knits slightly, her lips pursing.]

[And then before she knows it she's stepping after him - she needs more than one little step to make the distance because his legs are so much longer right now - and then somewhere along the line her arms end up around his middle because that's about as high as she can reach right now. Maybe that's her, 'it's okay', for both of them.]

[He'd consider it comforting, usually - if he were himself, if neither of their powers were moving utterly out of control, if only...

He doesn't even notice her stepping closer, not until her arms are around him and he can't help the gasp that escapes him, the surprise in his eyes - this is about the last thing he'd have expected her to do. A moment later he is relaxing into the hug though, one arm settling around her shoulders again and he desperately wishes he were back to his old height, his true height... then at least he would be able to hug her back properly.

There's no way to change this though, no way but to wait this out, and maybe if they are patient for just a little longer, it will really be okay. Maybe.

They'll just have to keep hoping, won't they?]

[There are a lot of 'if only's in lives like theirs. Maybe this'll just have to be good enough for now.]

[She doesn't cling to him too tightly, doesn't squeeze, just keeps a firm but breakable hold on him that strengthens just a little when he places his hand on her shoulder again. Even she's a bit surprised at herself, it's true, but-- this just seemed right. They both need the comfort, though she's more focused on providing it for him than for herself.]

[But soon enough it's over, and she moves to gently let go of him and give him his space once more, unless there's any objection to doing so offered.]

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