tampered | log • completed • closed

log • completed • closed

When; After this thread.
Rating; PG/PG-13?
Characters; Riku Replica (

darkbreak), Roxas (

obliviomancy).
Summary; The Replica is hurt and angry that Sora called him a stranger, so he goes off to fight monsters! Clearly this means Roxas needs to drop by and comfort him.
Log;

What Sora had said had understandably bothered the Replica. It really did sting when the only person who had told you they didn't care you were a replica, and believed you were your own person, and was your first and only friend had said to you that you were a "stranger". Yeah, it stung pretty bad. He considered Sora his friend and had thought that even though Sora didn't remember what happened in the Castle, they could remain (or become?) friends here in the city. But, he guessed... things weren't like that - it was a lot more complicated now, than it was back then. Namine and Sora were his only friends and yet he felt so alienated from them, like they're not the same anymore and things had changed and-- oh, he doesn't know, but what he does know is that it all just makes him damn frustrated.

So to release that frustration he went underground to fight some monsters, to cool off. He wasn't at the arena - he had no desire to fight for spectating people or their pleasure. He just needed to let off some steam, although because he was so preoccupied thinking about Sora and Namine, he wasn't able to concentrate entirely on fighting off the monster, and was... not doing as stellar as he was usually capable of. He had a few nicks and cuts here and there, and was working up a sweat quicker than usual. He just kept mulling over it in his head.

"Stranger, huh."

He laughed it off, bitterly, and kicked the monster away and rolled his shoulder against his ear. There was a quiet ticking sound, that just kept getting louder every few minutes.

It was pissing him off.

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Things were easier when the world was all monsters. Then, at least, you had some idea of what side you were on, what to do, how to act. Just settle in and fight. Let the ticking keep the time your nonexistent heartbeat couldn’t. Simple as that – and Roxas could do with some simplicity these days.

Luckily, things to fight weren’t exactly scarce in the Underground anyway.

The fight was more than halfway over when the monster broke off and tried to run. Biting down a sharp breath, Roxas started after it. This was a disadvantage he’d never get over: back through the worlds he’d gone to on missions, the Heartless were lured by hearts and Keyblade to stay until they faded. Here, though, he had no such bait – not for the things that lived underground. The thought kept him occupied until, closing in, he saw the other shape rise up.

Stupid. He’d forgotten the rule. Monsters ran together. Just because he didn’t work with others anymore didn’t mean everyone did the same.

But finally it was wheeling, caught at bay and flanked by an ally. Nothing else mattered. What did matter was that it wasn’t running anymore, and he could finish it. Vaguely, he caught sight of another form – bright hair, and for a moment he couldn’t recognize it at all. After another beat, he shrugged it off. Other people didn’t matter right now either.

“Watch out,” Roxas called – warning and greeting and dismissal in one. And then he rushed forward to lash out. One strike, and light flared up in a bright, damaging ring around them.

Watch Out? -- The warning came almost too late, as the Replica caught sight of the blinding attack and dodge-rolled out it's way. Where did that come from? He steadied himself and got up, really ticked off that some retard almost hit him with their attack when, to the Replica's surprise, he spotted Roxas.

Fantastic.

"Oh, it's you," the Replica said with a glare, dusting himself off. There was a quick glance at the remains of the monsters, and he felt himself frown, and grow bitter. Roxas was not someone he'd like to see right now, not after what happened with Sora.

But, the bitterness melted away from his face when he caught sight of Roxas' Keyblades... blinged out, like Sora had said they were.

"... Blingdom Keys?" Yeah, he couldn't help it.

On instinct, Roxas's expression twitched to a scowl. Another reminder of Sora - it's obvious, you're afraid to fight me! and fury and fear twisted up in his throat - was the last thing he needed right now. And he wouldn't have picked this company, either. He still didn’t get what the replica’s problem was. Or why everyone was so fascinated and wrapped up with this last piece to the puzzle that was Castle Oblivion.

“It’s just a curse,” he said, clearing his thoughts away without giving an inch. Turning, he let them hang deliberately, one in each hand. At least they still worked, even if they were kind of heavy and unbalanced like this.

But the sight of the replica stirred another memory: something Zexion had said. Vexen’s design, and now he has started to… disappear. But if the replica were really that defective, Zexion wouldn’t have tried to set Roxas up to fight him. He glanced over. All limbs accounted for. “Your arm. So it was a curse after all.”

The Replica nodded at that, he knew the "Blingdom Keys" were just a curse, and while they did look kind of (really) ridiculous, he was more interested in the concept of the Keyblade itself.

As Riku's Replica, he had SoulEater, which wasn't as... awesome as a Keyblade. And a part of him wondered Did Riku have a Keyblade, too?, because back when they fought each other, their weapons were the same and he wondered Why just Sora?. He looked down at his weapon in his hand, and thought that perhaps the reason Roxas was able to wield the Keyblade was only because he was Sora's Nobody, and that he, as Riku's Replica, was able to wield the SoulEater for that same reason.

Roxas' question caught his attention, and he came out of his thoughts and back into reality. The Replica stayed silent for awhile, and rose his arm up to look at it. My arm! My arm! It made his brows knit together. He hadn't admitted it, or even let it show, but that curse had rattled him, and scared him stupid. What if Zexion was right? No, he's a liar. He's just angry at me because of what happened.

"Yeah." Silence. He didn't look at Roxas, his eyes were on his arm. After a few he dropped his arm back to his side and turned to face the Nobody. "It was just a curse."

Well, that was the end of that, wasn’t it? The silence carried on, swallowing them up. Then, with a shrug, Roxas let it go, turning to examine the corpses to make sure they weren’t stirring – it wouldn’t work too well if they were still alive.

Part of his mind was unsettled still, trying to compare what he’d glimpsed of the replica fighting with what he knew about Riku – but that wasn’t a fair comparison. It wouldn’t tell him much. Somehow… it was important that replicas not be entirely like their originals. But why?

Roxas dismissed it.

He was breathing a little sharply, he realized; but then, using light always took something out of him. “Then Zexion was lying,” Roxas said without glancing back, unconsciously following the same train of thought as the replica himself. It was unthinkable that VI hadn’t known what he was talking about. The only alternative was that he had known, and had done it on purpose. But... “Why would he want—“ me to fight you “—you to think you were falling apart?” There was no courtesy to the tone, but Roxas wanted to know, and at the moment it didn’t really matter where he got his information from. Everything had happened before because he couldn’t ask the right questions. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

"Because he's bitter," the Replica spat. Clearly, the distaste for the Nobody was evident in his tone, and it showed on his face. The Replica, while expressive himself, didn't really catch the insincerity in Roxas' tone - he was far too pissed off about the whole ordeal to really notice that, and... well, might've been a little more than willing to divulge that information to a willing ear.

"He's just trying to get back at me." he said, while kicking the ground and resting his blade against his shoulder. A few moments, and the Replica glanced over at Roxas. "... what do you think?"

“About what?”

It wasn’t clicking together – but then, none of it was. No one had mentioned the replica to him the first time Roxas had tried to put the puzzle together, and now that it’d been pieced back to a whole, he didn’t know what to do with this extra part. It bothered him. What else could he have missed by thinking that he had the whole story? Was ther anything else? And, for that matter, why would Zexion care what happened to Vexen’s project? It felt important to know, somehow, but he couldn’t guess why.

Roxas shook his head. His grip on the Keyblades slackened, ready for any incoming enemy, but no longer quite on-guard. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. “Why would he want to get back at you?”

Because I killed him.

It was a fleeting thought, one that he quickly pushed aside into the back of his head and merely shook his head. The Replica wasn't stupid, and even he knew that that was sensitive information. Besides - he and Roxas weren't even friends, so why should he tell them? Why was Roxas even interested, anyway?

Even then, that really didn't stop him from changing the subject onto something that might be just as personal a question to Roxas.

"The Keyblade," he started out, gripping the handle of his weapon tightly, unsure of how to exactly continue. What's so special about it? Why can you and Sora wield it? "What's the difference between changing it's form and changing it's keychain?"

That wasn't exactly what he wanted to ask, but it was close enough.

Of course, he doubted Roxas would give him the answers he wanted. Maybe Roxas wouldn't trust him, either.

Fortunately for the replica, Roxas tended to be mostly oblivious to conversational ploys like that. More to the point, he hadn’t expected the question, and it showed.

Absently, Roxas let one Keyblade dissipate in a flash, pressing a gloved hand to his mouth as a new myriad of questions poured through. Why would the replica care about what the difference was when Namine had said he couldn’t use a Keyblade? How did he know about it in the first place? But the more he thought about it, the easier it was to pin down the answer.

“You’ve been talking to Sora, huh,” he said – and it wasn’t really a query, the way Roxas delivered it. It was a certainty. No one else would know as much about the Keyblades as Roxas did – no one but Sora. The reminder drew him up short again, and he watched the replica carefully. When he spoke, there was no inflection to his tone - neither disdain nor amusement, only a distant curiosity. “Why do you care? It’s not like you can use them.”

Well, that was easy. He almost wanted to blurt out why not!? because the thought that he maybe wasn't "good enough" crossed his mind, and because of the way Roxas said it. It wasn't so much the tone as it was fact, and, well.

It just bothered him.

"Yeah," he said, turning away to avoid letting Roxas see his expression. He was confused by Roxas' look of confusion. Really, it was the first time he'd seen Roxas react like that, and it was different. Weird.

Regardless, the Replica's weapon remained at his shoulder - it acted like a safety blanket for the moment, gave him something to hold on to. "I was just curious." A grumble, but loud enough to be heard. Why them, and not me?

Curiosity was easily handled. Roxas shrugged it off. It wasn’t any of the replica’s business what the Keyblades did, after all, and if Sora was willing to give him answers – well, Roxas wasn’t going to step in and make it easier. Educating a virtual stranger about the nature of his weapons wasn’t high on his priority list – especially when he wasn’t quite sure how they worked himself half the time.

But the replica's retreat left him an opening to remember— “You didn’t answer my question before,” Roxas pointed out. Even if he didn’t much care for the guy himself, Zexion was still important, and without distractions it was simple enough to focus on the topic.

Besides, it was much easier than any from the host of other questions that could be asked: what were you talking to Sora about? Are you on his side? He didn’t want to think about Sora right now – which was funny, in a way, because no matter what, he couldn't seem to get far from the thought of his Other.

He never really could.

Okay, so, they each had something the other person wanted answered. And it was clear that neither really trusted each other without any reason to... but now that he knew he couldn't wield the Keyblade, the Replica's thoughts trailed onto somewhere else. Or rather, someone else.

A moment to think, and the Replica turned to Roxas, tapping his weapon on his shoulder. "How about... if you answer my question, I'll answer yours?"

He thought it was a good enough deal.

A blink. Then Roxas nodded briefly, letting his hands fall to his sides. The Underground seemed oddly quiet. Maybe all the monsters were in hiding. Nothing to distract from the conversation at hand.

“I guess that’ll work,” he said at last, glancing down. The Keyblade clinked, slightly gaudier and heavier than usual, but still the same comfortable fit to his hand: an easy weapon, if he decided that he needed one. But the replica didn’t look like a threat right now.

Even so... “You can start.”

"Well," he started, unsure whether or not Roxas would say the deal's a bust since his question was actually more like several. "first... do you know Riku?"

What kind of question was that? A jerk of his head, his mouth twisting sharply down. His grip tightened on the hilt. "Yeah," Roxas said, flat to the edge of unkindness. "I know him."

What's he doing? How's he been? Is he still the same?

The Replica recognized that expression on Roxas. He felt himself frown, too. He wasn't sure whether Roxas' reaction was a good one or bad, considering all things.

"Can he..." his voice trailed off, an after a moment he resumed, "Does he have a Keyblade, too?"

Well, that was weird. Recognising it as a question on the route to an explanation, though, Roxas didn’t press the point. “I don’t think so,” he said, then turned the question back towards its source. “Why?” Or, more specifically: what does that have to do with why Zexion wants to get back at you?

So many questions, so little time.

Well, that was that, he guessed. The Replica shrugged, replying with "curiosity," and dismissed his weapon. There was no need for it, and it disappeared in a quick burst. After that he found a nice round stone to sit on, and promptly perched himself on it with a yawn.

"Guess it's your turn."

As the other boy went to sit, Roxas glanced around. If it hadn’t been his turn, he’d have suggested a move – this wasn’t exactly the kind of place he needed to hang around if they were just talking. But there was no use giving the other extra opportunities to duck his questions.

He himself didn't move. It was easier to stay on-guard if you were standing. No chance that you'd forget what was around you.

“I already asked you before,” he pointed out simply. “Why’d Zexion want to get back at you?”

How could he answer? Zexion was already half dead when Axel had brought him into the room and told him to finish him off - not those exact words, but it still had the same effect. And while Axel hadn't explicitly told him not to say anything, the Replica got the feeling that he didn't want him broadcasting it, either.

But then, he had to uphold his end of the bargain, and keeping promises were something the Replica did best.

Or, at least tried to.

So to make his point clear, the Replica slid off the rock, and walked over to Roxas. There was a brief pause as he faced him, and his brows knit together in consideration for a moment, before he shoved a finger into the Nobody's chest. It was more like a poke than anything.

"Promise you won't tell anyone."

He was guarding against greater things - monsters, a sharp sudden storm of rocks, etc - and so he didn’t expect the simplest approach until it happened: Riku’s replica walking right up to him. The poke caught him off-guard, and so Roxas reacted on automatic. He stepped back and the Keyblade swung up sharply before the rest of him caught up and realised that it wasn't meant as an immediate threat.

After a beat, he let it drop again – though not too far. What a dumb mistake to make.

The promise, though, was easier. There was nobody that Roxas needed to tell. “I promise,” he said readily, though his expression stayed remote. Breaking promises wasn’t something that he did, either – and he’d learned the price of recklessly promising things with Namine’s first time in the City.

But this was pretty clear-cut. Promise, or lose out on his answer.

“So tell me.”

Now that caught him by surprise, as he wasn't expecting that reaction either. For a moment the quick flames of anger licked at him, but whatever, the Nobody was wound up too tight or something, and the Replica tried not to let it get to him.

Even though you could still tell by his expression that it did tick him off.

"He's angry at me because I killed him."

If he’d been able to make any guesses at all, that would have been nowhere on the list.

Roxas just stared, guard utterly down for the seconds it took to process. VI had made it so clear that he hated Axel for something, and Marluxia had made it equally obvious that Zexion would try anything to get back at Axel. With the two of them circling, Roxas had never stopped to think that he hadn’t once heard Zexion say that he'd died by Axel's hand.

It didn't fit.

“Wait,” he said, and he was frowning as his guard went up again - trying to slow his own thoughts down. Trying to bend them into a shape that would make sense. “I thought Axel killed him.”

The Replica crossed his arms. He was pretty sure Axel would be upset about this if he found out. If. But as long as Roxas kept his word, things would be fine. Although he wasn't entirely fond of the guy, the Replica wanted to trust Roxas' word to keep his promise.

"No, I did. He was half dead when we got there, anyway. There wasn't much to do because of that."

“Well,” Roxas started – and it was slow going, making his way through the thought. He’d known that it had been Axel’s fault that the members at Castle Oblivion had died, but… this new explanation made sense too, which had to be good enough. He tilted his head, still thinking. “I guess that explains it.”

After a beat, his eyes flicked abruptly from some distant target back to the replica, fixing him with a clear gaze. “Was he the only one you killed?” That was important too – to sort out who wanted who dead. That way, he’d be able to stay out of their machinations.

The Replica eyed Roxas curiously, and shrugged at Roxas' question. There wasn't much to hide, after that.

"Yeah," If I had won, Riku... his face twisted lightly at the thought, and he jerked his face away. "He was the only one."

A few moments, and he glanced back at Roxas. "Why did you want to know?" This time, he truly looked curious. He didn't think questions like those would come out of the blue if nothing had happened... right?

How did you answer something like this? I want to know whose side I’m on, maybe – except that didn’t explain anything. He was on Sora’s. The only thing that remained was to trace the events of Castle Oblivion, and he’d done that.

To find out what they want.

That wasn’t right either. Maybe even he didn't know the answer. Distracted, Roxas shook his head. “I wanted to know what happened at Castle Oblivion,” he said bluntly, because he could spare that much truth. “That’s all.”

What happened at Castle Oblivion? Why would he want to know that? Didn't Axel, or Xemnas, or... Marluxia say anything? What about So- oh, right. He doesn't remember. "What about Namine? She was there. Didn't she tell you?" It was easy to tell that now the Replica's curiosity was growing, feeding off of Roxas'.

"Almost everyone that was there is here now. Didn't you ask them?"

It was a good question – good enough to drive Roxas’s guard up again. He didn’t owe the replica that much of an explanation, after all. They’d made their trade. “Yeah,” he admitted at last, briefly. “But it’s complicated.”

He couldn’t trust anyone from the Organization to tell him the whole story. They weren’t friends of his; they didn’t owe him anything like the truth. Namine might be open to answers now, but he didn’t know what he thought of that, either.

As for—

Roxas turned away from that last thought without finishing it.

The Replica hadn't even finished saying "Complicated? How?" before Roxas had turned his heel from him.

"Hey!" He called out, taking a step forward. The Replica didn't appreciate being ignored, especially when he still had some questions to ask. It was hard to have patience with someone you didn't even like, and, well... the Replica didn't have that much patience to begin with.

"Why're you asking?"

But Roxas wasn’t really going anywhere. He was restless, he was moving and on defense and he couldn’t stop. He had the answers he’d wanted, but the answers didn’t solve anything. He just wanted… but that was a question Roxas couldn’t answer. What did he want? He didn’t really know anymore.

“I wanted to know,” he said. For a moment his face wasn’t sharp or guarded at all, just a muted expression with his steady eyes wide as he voiced the simplest of answers. On instinct, he added, “Isn’t there stuff you just want to know, too?”

"Well, yeah." He admitted earnestly, watching Roxas carefully. Of course there were things he wanted to know. He wanted to know a lot of things. Like... why were Roxas and Namine so close. Why did Marluxia even exist. Why did Sora choose to forget them all and Castle Oblivion.

The Replica looked around, giving a sigh. The monsters that he had been fighting had been killed, and at the moment none were around. Either that was it for the area, or they decided against attacking them both again. There was a small shake of his head as he scoffed, "So much for that workout."

Roxas nodded once. “Right. So… you get it.”

At the replica’s reminder of where they were, however, he dismissed the remains of his drifting thoughts to glance around. “Looks like there won’t be any more for a while,” he remarked, after a pause. The air seemed to carry an odd, strained silence now. Maybe the light had been too flashy – he didn’t use that attack much, after all.

The Underground seemed cold, suddenly – forbidding, and certainly no place to talk. But location was easily solved. In a nonexistent heartbeat, a portal unraveled out of the shadows to lead him back to the Square.

For no reason he could really explain, Roxas glanced over his shoulder, hesitating on the threshold of darkness. And finally -- “Are you coming?”

Well, that certainly came as a surprise. Who would've thought that the ever apathetic and douchey Roxas would ask Replica - someone he doesn't even like - to join him? Where, who cares. The surprise was apparent on his expression (he's like an open book, really), and rather than decline the invitation, he accepted. It wasn't like he and Roxas were at each other's throats right now, and conversation had been going rather well... so, why not?

"Yeah."

He followed behind the Nobody, into the portal and out the other end.

The gesture was more of a practicality on Roxas’s part than anything else. He might yet have questions left to ask, after all. But the startlement slid past him unnoticed as they came out into the Square, summer air rolling thickly over them in waves. Around them, the city lay open in a lazy sprawl of shops and cafes.

Looking about, Roxas thought distantly that he might have liked it, if he really understood how that worked. The season made him think of other worlds: high places and sunsets. But that wasn’t worth thinking about now. There were other things to consider. “What were you doing in the Underground, anyway? Training?”

The summer heat was reminding him of sunsets, too. But not in the city, or town, but on the beach. Cool nights on the sandy shore, salty breezes and the warm sky. Memories.

Memories that weren't his.

Their similarities were about as close as it could possibly get. Both didn't want to think about their Other, were burdened with memories that were either of a fake life or not their own, and all those similarities were what maybe kept them from getting along.

Well, maybe most of the time, because for now things were going fine. Maybe... maybe things could be okay between them, if they ever got over the initial power-struggle and decided rivalry that the Replica had been set on.

"Letting out some steam." He replied with a shrug. Over what your Other had said. Thanks a lot.

Well, that made sense too. Sometimes Roxas thought that things might be better if the world were always like that: devoid of complexities, just constant motion and a mission to complete. Except they weren’t. People acted weird all the time – because of the heart, because of something you’d said in passing, because of shadows that weren’t even yours to control. And you couldn’t stop it.

Right now, though, the world felt pretty simple to him. The replica wasn’t fighting him for some needless mystery, and he’d finally slotted the last (?) piece into place. This wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. He could figure out what to do with the information later.

Aloud, he only said, “All right,” and kept walking. At least he had some idea as to where he was going now.

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log • completed • closed

My AIM died. /eats it darkly

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stupid reply link. reposting in correct place!

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