towerofanimus | all my anger, all my frustration, all my keysmashings

Characters: Roxas and anyone else
Setting: Floor three, the library
Format: Starting prose, sticking with anything!
Summary: Roxas just watched the network, and is Not Pleased At All.
Warnings: Those who love computers may want to look away.

It seemed like a long time ago since Roxas had done much of anything. He'd been cautious about making sure to eat and sleep properly, well aware of the effects that could have on his mortality by now- but he had wandered around in a fog, not being attentive ever since returning from...wherever he'd been. He didn't...want to think about it, the subject just made his head hurt.

Even still, he did his rounds in the library like always, and at least made a good show of straightening the books and keeping an eye out for anything out of place on the Network. It had been mostly quiet, and he kept his nose out of most things...until the latest video.

The kid, he recognized him. And it hit Roxas a bit too late why, well after the video had run it's course. It felt like he'd jolted awake.

"Wait..."

He stood at the computer terminal for several moments, the pit of his stomach turning. Something was going to go wrong again, wasn't it? Just like last time. He'd been in a fog the past month, that group thing, the ghosts, his mental world, and now this-

His frustration finally over-boiled, and without even realizing what he was doing, Kingdom Key had been jammed deep down in to the console. He yanked hard, taking a good chunk of broken bits with him. It took a couple moments for him to realize he was panting, but it didn't matter- he simply staggered to the next console over, and swung at it's screen.

He was. So done. With this bullshit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's via nearly tripping over a length of destroyed electrical wiring that Fran's brought to attention from her reverie over the recent video. She manages to recover (after some flailing that briefly shows off that she's packing all six arms underneath her poncho) and identify the culprit, currently busy ungracefully tearing out the innards of yet another terminal.

"It would be prudent to cut with less... exuberance, if you're trying to see their insides."

Sorry what is not comparing everything to surgery.

A harsh yank sent sparks and computer guts flying, as he tried to whirl around with intent to defend himself- luckily for himself and Fran, he lost his momentary anger and didn't club her over the head.

However, between his deep, shaky breaths, and how his hand was twitching around the handle of the key...he wasn't completely calmed down.

"No...I'm just...trying to get rid of them."

It'd made more sense in his head.

Flinching away from giant keys getting swung in your face is something that people with self preservation instincts do. Fran doesn't really have one of those, and thus doesn't react to the near key-to-the-noggin.

"Oh."

Well, computers aren't living things, so she doesn't care to chastise him. This is a bit of a mess, though. She turns away from him to prod at some of the scattered mess, mindless of the fact that some of it might still be zappy.

"You're doing an effective job of that---ouch!"

And then her hand got zapped for poking at nearly shredded computer parts.

Naminé was not one to leave posts on the network ignored. She rarely responded to them, but always made a point to read, listen to, or watch them, so that particular post did not slip by her. Watching it, though, she almost wished it had. Just looking at that boy like that made her feel ill, and she pressed a hand over her mouth, her face growing more and more ashen as the video went on. At every instant of the last part, she wanted to look away more and more, but was only able to after it was finished. Her hands were pressed over her face when she heard the crash coming from somewhere else in the library, and she let out a surprised yelp, quickly removing her palms. The first place she looked was the screen, but that message was clearly over, so it had to have come from somewhere else in the room.

Chills creeping down her spine, Naminé stood up quickly, turning her head this way and that as she tried to figure out what it was that had made the sound. She'd been so startled by it that even where it had come from eluded her, but she couldn't stay there - she chose a direction and hurried that way, not stopping until she suddenly spotted a very familiar figure... doing something she was also unfortunately familiar with. That brought her to a halt, one hand on the bookshelf she'd just passed. She didn't even process that he was the source of the noise before automatically letting out a, "Roxas--...!"

If there was one sure-fire way to make him lose focus, it was Nams. The key was ditched, still embedded in the terminal's screen as the boy harshly turned on his heel, looking for the source of his name. He was actually decently paler than usual, and aside from the little twitches and quakes in his arms, he seemed to've been shaken out of it, for the most part.

"I..."

A hand came up to roughly rub his eye, as if he was trying to jolt himself awake. "I'm so tired of all this."

Her gaze flitted toward the Keyblade just as it was abandoned - so that was what was making all that noise. A frown instantly pulled at her lips, and it stayed as she quickly shifted her eyes back to him upon noticing him turning. Looking him over did absolutely nothing to alleviate her concern, since just looking at his state was enough to make her worry even more. She straightened as he spoke, her fingers curling inward; she'd almost expected him to still be volatile, but watching him made it clear that he was finished smashing things, at least for now. She let out a sigh and stepped closer, her hand leaving the side of the bookcase to cling to its twin. She wished she could do something more for him than give him a gentle, sympathetic, "I know. We all are."

all my anger, all my frustration, all my keysmashings

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