Riku ("Ansem") (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
justabignobody) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2014-01-06 12:25 pm
justabignobody) wrote in towerofanimus2014-01-06 12:25 pm
Entry tags:
017
Characters: OU!Riku (justbignobody) and open!
Setting: January 7th, Floor 48 and Floor 39 from the 7th to the 11th
Format: whatever is good
Summary: With his mentor gone, Riku allows himself to mourn properly for a friend's disappareance for the first time since his arrival. Mourning can only last so long though, and what better way to work through that than to train!
Warnings: loads of sadfeels, but probably not much else?
[Prompt A - January 7th - Floor 48]
[Technically, he's known about this for a while already, has known exactly who had disappeared - for good this time - and when, because he had stopped sensing the presence that had grown so very, very familiar over the course of the last one and a half years, had checked the dorm room for a name (because disappearing alone isn't quite alarming yet, it's happened before, but... until now it had always been temporary) and found it gone.
Terra, Master Terra, is gone.
It's not just Terra, he knows, Aqua has disappeared too, but he's never known her as well, hadn't trained over a year under her gaze. (Hadn't considered her a safe haven, the one person he can always turn to when he's totally in over his head - rarely as that might happen, just the knowledge of the option had been a reassuring constant in the back of his mind.)
He's known it, but refuses to do as he usually does, to go search for the graves and swear to make sure to fix things right then and there - he busies himself with reading, stays on the safer sides of the tower for the week; he's finally accepted the new collar fluid and he doesn't particular feel like tempting fate anymore than he has to. There are no excuses now that a familiar tingling has returned to its place beneath his skin and in his heart, now that the world around him regained the dimension of light and darkness (for all that it's shallow to what he is used to from the glamour, for all that he can't sense more than the presence of the hearts right next to his). It will be a while until all his abilities return, until shadows darken under his will and form gateways to different parts of the tower, but for now, what he has is more than enough.
It doesn't take long until he finds the graves he is looking for, the ones that have been added as of this month, that haven't been around for too long to count, that he stands before the one that bears his teacher's name, mourning in silence because what is there to say, how can he ever voice his regrets and his sorrow and his thankfulness for the time spent together?
Instead he just extends his right arm after a while, palm open and turned downwards as he exhales, as his eyes slip closed and he concentrates on the faint whisper in his heart, on the song of the stars shining in the shadows, eyelids flickering just a little as the winds pick up around him, brushing his hair and his cloths while silver starlight and whispers of darkness merge into one beneath his palm, and the air rings as Way to the Dawn appears - for the very first time real rather than glamour, but only ever his own.
He's been afraid of this moment until now, had wondered if the Keyblade he had wielded for the last year and some change had been just a trick of the tower, just as fake as the film it had been made of, if he is truly as undeserving as he still considers himself to be (no matter what reassurance he'd been given), but here it is, lying in his grip, he knows deep down that that's right where it belongs and it's now that the words that had escaped him before finally find him.]
...We are going to make things right again. We are going to fix it all and restore everything. I know there has to be a way.
[There had been before, back home, hadn't there? But then there hadn't been any issue with timelines, with alternate universes that exist right next to each other, that should never have touched, never known of another's existance (but neither should the worlds, so it really is just like home, isn't it? Just on a much larger scale).]
I know, I'm still learning... I know there is so much I don't know about what at Keyblade Wielder- [Never mind a Master, not that he'll ever become one.] -is supposed to be and do. I guess, from now I'll be figuring that out on my own again.
[The meaning of the Keyblade is different here and now, to it is back home, he knows, and back home it is different to what it had been when Terra had been student rather than teacher, so this is something that he would have had to do by himself anyway, that nobody could have told him, but maybe in the end the meaning has been the very same from the start, from the moment that he had met Terra, that he had closed his hand around the handle of a Keyblade for the very first time and had listened to the whisperes of a blessing (never a curse), words forever burned into his mind.
(In your hand, take this Key...)]
I'm still not sure, if I have the making to wield this Key properly. Maybe, I'll never be. But... it's mine to wield and use it to do whatever I can do.
To save what can be saved. To guard what can be guarded.
[He slides to his knees, arms dropping as his Keyblade comes to rest in his lap, the fingers of his left hand carefully running over the blade as he bows his head forward and the tears finally start running down his cheeks (he doesn't do anything to stop them).]
To protect the things that matter - my friends, my home, everyone and everything.
[It's a promise, an oath once made and now renewed - and this time, Riku has no intention of ever forgetting, of failing, of losing sight of his path.
He stays like that for a while - head bowed, tears falling, his blade in his hands - for the first time he truly mourns a disappearance.
(Mourns, but never despairs. No matter what the tower may take, who may disappear from his life and is threatened to be used in Ruana's scheme, it will be long before he gives up. Hope hasn't died on him yet.)]
[Prompt B - January 7th-11th - Floor 39]
[There is only so much time that Riku allows himself to mourning, that he can allow himself for it, really, because the tower is as dangerous a place as it's always been, even more so for him right now, while his powers are only slow to return to what they should truly be.
Training is the name of the game, retracing all the steps and swings and swipes he has been taught with his old-new-weapon and taking advantage of the fact that his magic has yet to return by concentrating fully on just that.
And well... if anyone feels up to a little sparring match, he's definitely not going to say no to that either.]
justbignobody) and open!Setting: January 7th, Floor 48 and Floor 39 from the 7th to the 11th
Format: whatever is good
Summary: With his mentor gone, Riku allows himself to mourn properly for a friend's disappareance for the first time since his arrival. Mourning can only last so long though, and what better way to work through that than to train!
Warnings: loads of sadfeels, but probably not much else?
[Prompt A - January 7th - Floor 48]
[Technically, he's known about this for a while already, has known exactly who had disappeared - for good this time - and when, because he had stopped sensing the presence that had grown so very, very familiar over the course of the last one and a half years, had checked the dorm room for a name (because disappearing alone isn't quite alarming yet, it's happened before, but... until now it had always been temporary) and found it gone.
Terra, Master Terra, is gone.
It's not just Terra, he knows, Aqua has disappeared too, but he's never known her as well, hadn't trained over a year under her gaze. (Hadn't considered her a safe haven, the one person he can always turn to when he's totally in over his head - rarely as that might happen, just the knowledge of the option had been a reassuring constant in the back of his mind.)
He's known it, but refuses to do as he usually does, to go search for the graves and swear to make sure to fix things right then and there - he busies himself with reading, stays on the safer sides of the tower for the week; he's finally accepted the new collar fluid and he doesn't particular feel like tempting fate anymore than he has to. There are no excuses now that a familiar tingling has returned to its place beneath his skin and in his heart, now that the world around him regained the dimension of light and darkness (for all that it's shallow to what he is used to from the glamour, for all that he can't sense more than the presence of the hearts right next to his). It will be a while until all his abilities return, until shadows darken under his will and form gateways to different parts of the tower, but for now, what he has is more than enough.
It doesn't take long until he finds the graves he is looking for, the ones that have been added as of this month, that haven't been around for too long to count, that he stands before the one that bears his teacher's name, mourning in silence because what is there to say, how can he ever voice his regrets and his sorrow and his thankfulness for the time spent together?
Instead he just extends his right arm after a while, palm open and turned downwards as he exhales, as his eyes slip closed and he concentrates on the faint whisper in his heart, on the song of the stars shining in the shadows, eyelids flickering just a little as the winds pick up around him, brushing his hair and his cloths while silver starlight and whispers of darkness merge into one beneath his palm, and the air rings as Way to the Dawn appears - for the very first time real rather than glamour, but only ever his own.
He's been afraid of this moment until now, had wondered if the Keyblade he had wielded for the last year and some change had been just a trick of the tower, just as fake as the film it had been made of, if he is truly as undeserving as he still considers himself to be (no matter what reassurance he'd been given), but here it is, lying in his grip, he knows deep down that that's right where it belongs and it's now that the words that had escaped him before finally find him.]
...We are going to make things right again. We are going to fix it all and restore everything. I know there has to be a way.
[There had been before, back home, hadn't there? But then there hadn't been any issue with timelines, with alternate universes that exist right next to each other, that should never have touched, never known of another's existance (but neither should the worlds, so it really is just like home, isn't it? Just on a much larger scale).]
I know, I'm still learning... I know there is so much I don't know about what at Keyblade Wielder- [Never mind a Master, not that he'll ever become one.] -is supposed to be and do. I guess, from now I'll be figuring that out on my own again.
[The meaning of the Keyblade is different here and now, to it is back home, he knows, and back home it is different to what it had been when Terra had been student rather than teacher, so this is something that he would have had to do by himself anyway, that nobody could have told him, but maybe in the end the meaning has been the very same from the start, from the moment that he had met Terra, that he had closed his hand around the handle of a Keyblade for the very first time and had listened to the whisperes of a blessing (never a curse), words forever burned into his mind.
(In your hand, take this Key...)]
I'm still not sure, if I have the making to wield this Key properly. Maybe, I'll never be. But... it's mine to wield and use it to do whatever I can do.
To save what can be saved. To guard what can be guarded.
[He slides to his knees, arms dropping as his Keyblade comes to rest in his lap, the fingers of his left hand carefully running over the blade as he bows his head forward and the tears finally start running down his cheeks (he doesn't do anything to stop them).]
To protect the things that matter - my friends, my home, everyone and everything.
[It's a promise, an oath once made and now renewed - and this time, Riku has no intention of ever forgetting, of failing, of losing sight of his path.
He stays like that for a while - head bowed, tears falling, his blade in his hands - for the first time he truly mourns a disappearance.
(Mourns, but never despairs. No matter what the tower may take, who may disappear from his life and is threatened to be used in Ruana's scheme, it will be long before he gives up. Hope hasn't died on him yet.)]
[Prompt B - January 7th-11th - Floor 39]
[There is only so much time that Riku allows himself to mourning, that he can allow himself for it, really, because the tower is as dangerous a place as it's always been, even more so for him right now, while his powers are only slow to return to what they should truly be.
Training is the name of the game, retracing all the steps and swings and swipes he has been taught with his old-new-weapon and taking advantage of the fact that his magic has yet to return by concentrating fully on just that.
And well... if anyone feels up to a little sparring match, he's definitely not going to say no to that either.]
Prompt B, January 11th
Unfortunately, it wasn't Soul Eater that came back first for this one. No, instead only a rudimentary control over the shadows had in the form of being able to cast a dark fire. Not even dark firaga; just fire. That's it. Sure, it'd only been seven days after his last checkup, but that didn't mean that he was any less impressed with the faint hum of dark energy playing at his fingertips in the aftermath of setting one of the more defective things temporarily on fire.
(Where was that weird guy in the green hood when you needed him as a target?)
Of course, he can't help but notice his other - and he simply shrugs it off with a sigh. This month... It sucks.]
no subject
He throws his room mate a side-glance, glad to be able to have some sense of the darkness he's manipulating; he knows it will take time for all of it to come back, he knows it and understands it, but that doesn't mean that he isn't agreeing with Ira.
This month definitely sucks.
Ah well... they might as well work the frustrations of it off together.]
Need a moving practice target?
Prompt A
Because Terra was to Riku as Reno was to her - perhaps not in exactly the same way, but in all the important matters. Someone he could look up to, a refuge. Because Xion remembers that time, a year ago, when she'd been worn out and shaken from Ganon's torture, and Riku himself had been injured getting them out, and it had been Terra who he'd taken them to, Terra who Riku had trusted to know what had happened and guard them until they felt safe.
Even if she'd never bonded that closely with the man himself, Xion's heart aches for Riku losing him.
When she does finally approach, it's quiet. Tentative. Just as her voice is, when she speaks.]
Hey.
no subject
He still hasn't learned all there is, he knows he hasn't, but it's thanks to Terra that he has gained strength like he's never had it before that point. The strength that he'll need in order to help with restoring things to what they were.
He senses Xion just before she speaks up, her's is a very familiar heart after all, but doesn't turn, not at first anyway. Instead, he opens his hand and lets his Keyblade slip away, dismisses it back to where it belongs, before he straightens and turns his head.]
...Hey, Xion.
Prompt A
He tried not to let that fact distract him, though. Yes, he missed them. Far, far more than he showed to the others in the tower. However, as far as Edgeworth was concerned, the best thing he could do for them at the moment and uncover all possible truths in this place. There was no time for tears, even in private.
Or at least no time for tears for him. He saw Riku and was not going to stop the boy from mourning. In fact, he didn't want to disturb him at all.
Therefore, Edgeworth turned around and was about to make his way back to the stairs.
When he realised that his cravat was loose.
Without thinking, he mutters.] Damn. [And, without thinking, stops and tries to redo it.
He clearly has his priorities in order. Riku may or may not have heard him.]
no subject
There is so much for him to mourn and to miss, so much that he can't allow himself the time for, that he usually would just swallow down and hide away, but of all people, Riku may or may not know the best that it's better to accept and move on than to ignore and deny what he feels and that he feels, because in the end that would just come back to bite him anyway.
He's steeled himself to ignore any other presence on this floor, is successful in that until Edgeworth's curse has him flinch and shake his head, and decide that for all that he could stay here for another day, it may just be time wasted away.
His breath shakes as he gets up then, Keyblade flashing away back to its place in his Heart before he reaches up and whips away the remains of his tears with the back of his hand.]
Prompt B - January 9th
Like his double, this Riku came down here to train-- to test his limits. So consider his surprise when he sees his fellow 'ku doing the same thing.
Resting his Keyblade against his shoulder, he stuts towards him with a snicker.]
So, is that the real deal?
[Given the glamour system, it's tricky to tell sometimes.]
no subject
It takes a lot not to smirk too much, to keep himself from feeling too exhilarate - worthy or not, this is his Keyblade. It's probably not hard to tell that even with everything else that's happened in the last few weeks, this makes him happy.]
As real as it gets.
no subject
[No magic, no darkness. It's like he just stepped off the islands and back into Traverse Town. It's strange, surreal, yet knowing that it's real, that it's not just smoke and mirrors clears away his frustrations.
So, he'll flick his weapon, glancing from one Keyblade to the other.]
You up for a round?
I'm sorry, I don't know how this tag got lost! orz
He replies to the challenge with a glance to his own Keyblade and a flash of a smirk.]
Depends. You up for getting your butt kicked?