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| [Christmas isn't always a fairytale. It's not always about Santa, or getting presents. Not always about families, not always about togetherness.]
[Sometimes, Christmas equates to isolation. It's something Roxas has gotten used to.]
[Here in the orphanage, plenty of kids are getting excited over the season. It's the season to be jolly-- and the season for couples to feel that little pang of longing, to have a young one of their own bouncing into their room, ripping the colorful paper off presents and beaming up at the camera that will capture them for ages to come.]
[So the orphanage opens it's doors, lets more people in than usual and gives the children a chance to be at their best- playing, fighting, crying; laughing, in front of the many potential mothers and fathers that look their way. Roxas just doesn't understand it.]
[So he stays out of the way, under a tree with his little black book, and writes about far off worlds with disappearing cats and talking caterpillars, because when you don't know what you're missing--]
[How can you want it?]
[OOC: Meet a smaller Roxas than usual- around eight years old and brimming with confusion over the current events. Essentially playing up his lack of understanding to both christmas and family, so-- feel free to pull him from that isolation.] | |
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| [While everyone else is having typical, family-oriented dreams, you may notice this one in particular to be... a little unusual. First of all, Ratchet isn't quite Ratchet today. First off, he's naked.Second, he's not grinding away at one of his typical projects. If anyone were to approach this creature out in the grassy field, they may find him lounging about - whether he's scratching at his ears, grooming himself, or just darting around trying to catch even more odd creatures roaming the wilderness. He might even have one in his mouth! Oh, but don't piss off the little blue guys, either. Word to the wise.] | |
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| [There is a sleepy town cast in the soft orange light of the setting sun. It is built on hills, so the brick streets of the town rise and fall in great slopes in some areas and gently rolls in others. At the very top of the highest hill, there is a clock tower perched atop a train station. When a world is trapped within perpetual sunset like this one, keeping track of the time is difficult, and so that tower is of the utmost importance, the ticking of its clock the heartbeat of the town.
Wherever you are in the town, there's a young teenager dressed in a black coat. The hood is drawn up to where his or her face is mostly obscured. On top of the clock tower, he or she -- it's surprisingly difficult to tell -- the teenager is sitting on the ledge, holding a light blue ice cream bar in one hand, staring out at the town below. Elsewhere, s/he can be found wandering around, as if exploring the streets, or standing awkwardly along the building walls.]
[ooc: A list of canonical locations in town is here, if you want it! All of Twilight Town is there to visit (except for Yen Sid's tower, since Xion doesn't exactly know that place exists).] | |
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| [All the nightmares lately, it's finally time for this kid to have a nice dream. And it's about something he's missed a lot: sweets. That's right, the entire world right now is edible. The clouds that you can float up to are cotton candy, there are peppermint trees, and chocolate streams, even soda waterfalls. The entire place is edible, and Sora is enjoying it so very, very much. Rolling through sugargrass, nibbling at flowers made of frosting, he can be found most anywhere in this sweets-based dream world.] | |
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| [Welcome home.]
[Maybe you’ve never been here before. Or maybe this place isn’t quite what you remember. But there’s something inside that tells you, you’re here to stay. You belong here. With Roxas. And with Sora. They have a very special story to tell you. One they haven’t told anybody else. No one except for you. Because you’re special. You’ve always been special, didn’t you know?]
[They do.]Once upon a time- time, like the present. [There are shadows, painted across the ground in long, dark strokes. The sun is high in the sky, casting rays onto the sandy beach, across the carefully hand crafted walkways and bridges.]
[The world feels small. Cold.]
[At the center of it all, like a mirage across the field, are two more shadows. Distinct in shape, anybody could’ve cast them; it’s the same matter that walks at your feet, crawls across the wall behind you, in every hour of everyday. Together, they clasp hands, reciting a story they both know well. It’s so hard to tell...but one could begin to think that they were smiling.]There was a boy made of light, with a heart made of glass. A heart a little bigger, maybe smaller than some, than most. But so very precious. So very BREAKABLE. [Hands squeeze, so very tightly. Even from a distance, it almost looks like they’re breaking each other’s skin, digging into the palms of their hands, sinking their fingers deeper and deeper, if only so they never. Let. Go.]One day, he wandered into the wood, into the dark where the shadows wait and creep and reach. Even a heart of glass can be filled with courage. So when the shadows pulled and pushed, and pushed. And pulled. He didn’t break. Instead, it laid out piece by piece, all the right things to let him break himself. He shattered into two: One and another. But even though he was broken, it was still okay. Because a long as he held onto his other, he could still be whole. But there was something in the water... [A pause. For a moment, one of the voices stutters into silence. It feels guilty, the heavy weight of defeat and treason;a thick cloud seeping his very being. All across the ground, tainting the air.]
[He feels guilty. And so do you.]A shadow. And it wanted to smother the light, hated how it shone wherever the two touched. So it waited. It waited for that moment when the two were not whole, when one ventured forth in search of everything for the other. It reached out, called, tempted. Until there was no air. One sank. The other watched. But one and the other never let go, one hand clasped around the other. Under the dark water, the shadow began to snap pieces off his light, began to devour them and make them a part of himself. And when one became the shadow, he pulled the other down into the black and asked in one's voice, 'Would you be with me? Would you let me eat you too?' The boy cried and struggled to bring the light back. He mourned his loss, his voice cried no. But his heart said yes. And so together, they went into the dark. Piece by piece. Still whole, still together. But the dark is vast. The water is lonely.
And the shadow is always hungry. [The sand shifts under soft footsteps, Sora and Roxas move in tandem closer to their friend, beckoning you forward. Eyes linger in one spot, and one spot only, centering in on the beating heart pattering away under your chilled skin.]
So They asked their friend...
Would you be with us too?
[ooc: Roxas and Sora in the aftermath of this thread.] | |
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| The landscape appears to be the grounds near his house, though with the fog and dark sky it may not seem too different for those who had visited him in the place. It does seem as though he is mentally trying to hide everything. Any visitors would approach from a side that has a garden. The flowers in it seem wilted, unattended to. He's standing further in the fog, though. And if they keep moving forward, they might notice a shadowy figure standing beside a tall wheelchair in the distance. There's a general chillness in the air, and it might seem slightly unwelcoming to people. Not the warmth that one might expect when visiting and speaking with Charles Xavier.
Beyond the fog, Charles is standing there. And it might be surprising but it is not his home. There is a beach. There's a crashed sub and jet there. There's still extra sets of footsteps in the sand, but he is certainly alone. Charles has a hand placed gently on the wheelchair he is standing next to. Despite the chillness in the air, and the strong sense of security, Charles' expression is caring, and even genuine, when he turns to face the visitor. He doesn't say anything, just nods, then turns to look back out at the water of the beach.
[ OOC; It's been awhile, guys! I'm back, it seems. And Charles has been updated to post-canon. Also, you're welcome to action if you'd prefer that to prose. ] | |
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| Do you remember, way back when you were born? The look of elation on your mother's face as you opened your eyes for the very first time? Do you remember the first words she spoke to you, and the name she bestowed, to be forever known? Of course not. You didn't have the capacity to remember. You didn't know how to remember at the time, and the moment is lost.
This is when you get that second chance.
Instead of crying in elation, there's sorrow. From both of them. They're leaning over you, trying to talk to you but it's just hopeless. You won't respond. You won't be able to tell them that you're okay, that you see them, that you hear them but you just can't do anything. And that makes everyone sadder, to see the life you once held lost.
But he's trying to reach out. Rest a hand on her shoulder, or speak her name. His body won't react, the words stuck in his throat. And for a place with such humid climates, it's so cold. He's staring at her with those tinged green eyes, mentally telling her that he didn't want to go yet. That he loves her, that he still wants to grow old with the two of them.
They leave him, on the bed, in the tiny little hut. They just don't have the heart to cover up the body of their son.
But he's still alive.
[ooc: Just a little note that the baby part is the mun's attempt at being all poetic ffff. He's normal-aged, and once people arrive on in, he'll be able to move somewhat normally.] | |
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| [At first, everything is dark. There's nothing but black and empty space...yet, somehow, this isn't scary at all. Maybe because there's something nearby - something warm and inviting. Safe.
A bright light in the distance.
But maybe not so far away after all. Soon there's solid ground. It's a circular platform that looks like stained glass, but doesn't feel fragile. It's brightly colored, and covered in pictures...pictures that must come from somewhere.
Maybe they mean something to the child on the other side of the platform. The boy is walking around, looking a little confused...and with good reason. He had just been here a few hours ago, hadn't he? The person he had been talking to before was sleeping. So why was he back here? Was this a dream?
That's when he turns around, finally noticing that he's not alone. In a confused, but friendly tone, he asks-]How'd you get here? | |
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